


Adam

by dsa_archivist, EA Karras (Anne)



Category: due South
Genre: Alternate Universe, Drama, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Series: Mountie Slayer, Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2000-03-30
Updated: 2000-03-30
Packaged: 2018-11-10 19:40:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 20,598
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11133408
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dsa_archivist/pseuds/dsa_archivist, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anne/pseuds/EA%20Karras
Summary: Fraser possessed.A dead thing bookThe beginning of the end of LilithThis story is a sequel toThe Thirteenth.





	Adam

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Speranza, the archivist: this story was once archived at [Due South Archive](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Due_South_Archive). To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in June 2017. I tried to reach out to all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Due South Archive collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/duesoutharchive).
    
    
    Title: "Adam" 
    Author: EA Karras and Magnes 
    Rating: R (a very R) 
    Disclaimers: Standard DS disclaimers apply. Calhoun is Magnes', Tom is
    mine. Series: Mountie Slayer: Gehenna 
    Warnings: Unconsentual sex. Rat consumption.
    
    --- 
    
    Something was biting him. 
    
    Ray opened his eyes to the sound of a baby crying in the next room, a
    soothing voice and something /biting/ him on the wrist. It hurt. A lot.
    He rolled his eyes to the side. "Fraser? What're you doing?" His voice
    was tired. He hadn't slept well in the past few days, he'd been on stake
    out with an irritable Vecchio. Not his idea of fun. 
    
    And Fraser was biting him. Not breaking skin or anything. Just biting.
    Gnawing. 
    
    "Ray..." Fraser seemed to growl at him, pulling him into a deep, violent
    feeling kiss. He felt fingers go in his hair, pulling hard. The purple
    dye had gone out in the shower last night, and his hair was hurting bad.
    He'd have to dye it again. He felt Fraser bite his lip. Not nibble. Bite.
    In a not-sexy way, too. 
    
    He managed to pull away from the kiss, panting. His fingers went to his
    lips, coming back with blood. "Ow. Fraser..." Fraser moved in to kiss
    him again. "Wait a minute. Stop..." 
    
    Fraser pretended to think about it. "No." He grinned, kissing Ray harder,
    pushing him against the bed. Was that his imagination or was the baby
    crying harder? 
    
    Now Fraser was biting at his neck and it hurt more than the lip ever
    did. "Fraser. Stop." 
    
    "Sorry," he whispered against Ray's neck.  He showed no sign of wanting
    to stop and much as Ray would have enjoyed another night-long marathon
    of love-making, he was beat and he had to be up in four hours to get
    back to work. 
    
    "Frase.  C'mon.  Lemme sleep." 
    
    "No." 
    
    He blinked awake.  What?  Fraser had never pressed the issue when he
    knew Ray was tired.  That simple knowledge was enough to shut Ray down
    for the first time since he'd met the Mountie. 
    
    "Stop.  C'mon!" 
    
    "NO." 
    
    Fraser was bigger and stronger than Ray and right now he used that to
    his advantage.  Ray was pinned to the bed, held down by the weight of
    the Canadian.  He gritted his teeth, able to feel how much this had aroused
    Fraser.  God.  Where did this come from? 
    
    "Fraser...Benton...please!  Stop." 
    
    Fraser kissed him again so hard it hurt.  He could feel the Mountie sucking
    on his cut lip, lapping up the trickle of blood.  Rough hands pushed
    up his shirt, kneading his flesh.  Ray tried to struggle free.  This
    was not even mildly amusing.  He yanked away from Fraser's lips. 
    
    "Get off of me!" he hissed. 
    
    He could hear the smile in Fraser's voice.  "No." 
    
    He felt the hands move south, pushing his shorts and briefs down.  He
    winced as tender flesh was mauled, as Fraser's hips thrust hard against
    him.  No, this could not be happening.  Not Fraser.  Not - 
    
    "Not a sound, Ray," whispered Fraser.  Was it Fraser?  "Just lie here
    and enjoy it, lover." 
    
    Lover?  When the hell had Fraser started using stupid nicknames like
    that?  And when the hell had Fraser ever wanted him to be quiet about
    them making love? 
    
    He struggled despite himself.  Fraser clamped one big hand across his
    mouth, muffling his angry shout.  In the other room, he could hear the
    baby wailing and a gentle voice soothing it as the man he loved so deeply
    became a being of unspeakable cruelty. 
    
    *** 
    
    Tom walked with the baby, trying to sooth whatever was frightening him
    enough to cry.  He could imagine what it was like for Caine, here in
    the body of an infant after countless centuries. 
    
    "It's all right. Everything's fine." He held the Angus filled bottle
    near the baby's lips. "No? Not hungry?" 
    
    He brushed his fingers against the baby's temple. "What's wrong?" He
    could only get one word. 
    
    /She./ 
    
    A thud from the room over. Like wood hitting wall. He knocked on the
    wall. "Can you guys keep it down in there?" 
    
    *** 
    
    Fraser rolled off Ray, glaring. "Psychic whore..." he muttered under
    his breath. 
    
    Ray stared at Fraser, suddenly very afraid. Where was all this coming
    from? "What the hell is wrong with you? Are you completely unhinged?"
    
    "Go to sleep, Ray." Fraser sounded visibly annoyed. Ray gaped, shaking
    his head. 
    
    "Sleep. Right. After you raped me?" He waited for a reaction but got
    none.  Just Fraser turning his back to Ray and settling down to sleep.
    Ray sighed, shaking his head as he straightened his clothes. His stomach
    suddenly lurched and he ran for the bathroom. Something had to be wrong
    for Fraser to act like that. He wouldn't even consider anything else.
    
    He wanted a shower.  Wanted to scrub away the feeling of Fraser's hands
    on him.  He was going to bruised tomorrow, thank you Constable.  Leaning
    his head against the cool tile wall, he listened to Aja wailing in the
    next room.  Well, he wouldn't be able to sleep tonight now.  Not in the
    same bed as Fraser, anyway.  He went back into the bedroom. 
    
    "Come to bed, Ray," called Fraser.  It was an order. 
    
    "Go to hell," he muttered.  In seconds he was knocking on Tom's door.
    The psychic looked at him apologetically, but Ray just held his hands
    out for the baby.  The tiny boy quieted immediately in Ray's gentle hold,
    talking up at him and smiling.  Ray grinned despite himself.  Cute kid.
    
    "What's up, daddy-o?" he asked, settling down on the couch.  Tom found
    them both asleep a few minutes later and threw a blanket over them both.
    He frowned a bit at the sudden comfort his son took in Ray's grasp. He
    sat, quietly and thought about it. 
    
    Within minutes, he too was asleep. 
    
    *** 
    
    Baltimore, MD, 0734 am: 
    
    Calhoun kicked open the door to the bland looking house, entering it
    with ease. Apparently Tom's mother wasn't quite as worried about vampires
    as her son had been. "Cassandra Grissom?" he demanded, looking at the
    open-mouthed teenager by the television. 
    
    "Y-y-yes..." she stammered. He supposed the demon in her hadn't quite
    jumped into form. Either that, or he'd really surprised the hell out
    of her. It looked as if Tom's mother had gone far towards suppressing
    that side of her genetic make-up.  Stupid bitch.  Why rob the child of
    her nature and natural defenses? 
    
    "I'm here to take you to your father. Pack a bag." He looked around,
    eyes falling on the woman who had been behind the door he'd kicked in.
    She was halfway across the room now, fumbling for her water gun. "You.
    Lauren Heller, correct?" 
    
    "Fuck you. Tom sent you?" 
    
    "In a manner of speaking." 
    
    "Tell him to go to hell. He's never seeing her..." Her voice was choked
    off as he physically lifted her up. He slapped the gun out of her hand.
    
    "She's coming with me. And if I catch you anywhere /near/ either of them,
    I'll do a lot worse than break your hand." 
    
    "You..." She blinked. "You didn't break my hand." 
    
    "Didn't I?" 
    
    He dropped her to the floor.  She gripped the hand he had slapped and
    defiantly yelled, "This is kidnapping!" 
    
    "Not if Cassie decides to come with me," he snapped.  "She's fifteen.
    She's old enough to decide where she wants to live.  Tom never wanted
    to lose her and you took her out of spite." 
    
    "Tom is an unstable, unemployed, whoring loser that never should have
    been a parent!" 
    
    "You go on thinking that, bitch." 
    
    "Even the /courts/ thought he was unstable. Working in that...that...that
    /place/. What kind of life is that for a kid?" she spat. "How do you
    /know/ him? One of his customers?" 
    
    He ignored the remark. "He only worked there because of you." 
    
    "I didn't turn him into a sl....Cassie, go to your room." 
    
    They both turned.  Cassie looked hurt and clearly she'd overheard her
    grandmother's unflattering opinion of her father, and through her father,
    of her.  She swallowed, and Calhoun could see that while her eyes were
    not as dark as Tom's they had the same quiet fire behind them. 
    
    "Grandma?" she wondered. 
    
    Calhoun didn't give them time to think.  He dialed his cell phone and
    handed it to Cassie.  Her eyes grew wide with delight as she squealed,
    "Daddy?" 
    
    She waited an excruciatingly long time for reply. "...Cassie?" Her father's
    voice was shaking, uncontrolled. "You...how did...Cassie?" 
    
    Cassie was crying, unable to speak at all. She felt the strange vampire
    take the phone from her and she held her bag to her chest, sobbing. For
    years, her grandmother had told her that her father had abandoned her.
    She'd always known that her father would never do anything of the sort
    but had never guessed what had really happened. 
    
    "Tom? You want me to bring her...Tom, calm down. Tom." Calhoun grinned,
    despite himself. "Tom, I'll bring her home, ok?" He looked to Cassie,
    who was nodding vigorously. "Soon. I'll take the next flight." He glanced
    towards Heller, who was edging her way towards a box of stakes. "I've
    gotta go. I'll call you before we go.  Cassie, would you mind waiting
    by the car?  It's in the driveway." He dropped the phone, making his
    way towards Heller. 
    
    *** 
    
    Chicago, IL, 0742 am: 
    
    Tom dropped on the couch beside Ray, feeling the tightness in his chest
    loosen. He doubled over, sobbing with relief. "God...Oh God...Thank God.."
    He felt eyes on him. Not Ray. He turned around. Fraser was staring at
    him from the doorway. 
    
    "Who was that?" 
    
    "James. He..." Tom's eyes met Fraser's, and he felt cold. Chilled to
    the bone. His hands shook, and he tore his gaze away. /She..../ 
    
    "Hey!  Hey, Aja!" soothed Ray as the baby abruptly started crying again.
    He rocked the infant, wondering if all this, well, babying was driving
    the vampire nuts or what.  He was, after all, several thousand years
    old. 
    
    Ray looked up and saw Fraser resplendent in red serge and Stetson standing
    in the bedroom door.  Ray stared at him, clearly uncomfortable about
    something revolving around the Mountie because he swallowed and looked
    nervously away after a moment. 
    
    Fraser smiled.  "Ready, Ray?  I don't want to be late my first day back."
    
    "S-sure, Frase.  Just lemme get my jacket," Ray said softly, handing
    over the baby.  "Be good, kiddo."  He looked at the psychic.  "Talk to
    ya later, Tom." 
    
    Tom watched him go.  Gone was Ray's normal grace and easy manner.  Something
    had happened last night and it had not been anything good.  After a moment,
    Ray walked out silently.  Fraser followed.  What was that look on the
    Slayer's face as he closed the door?  Was Benton Fraser gloating? 
    
    *** 
    
    "So what did you do to my grandmother, James?" 
    
    "I didn't hurt her, Cass.  Just tied her up.  If she works real hard,
    she'll be out in about four hours.  I'll call later to make sure or send
    the police over." 
    
    A slow smile spread over the teenager's face.  "I can't believe I've
    got a brother.  What did Dad name him?" 
    
    "Nothing yet.  It's been a week and nobody knows what to call him." 
    
    "And...the Slayer has a real werewolf?" 
    
    "Kinda.  He's a bit of a runt as far as werewolves go." 
    
    Cassie's smile grew wider.  She had a feeling she was going to like Chicago.
    "Dad'll think up a good name. He's good at that." 
    
    "He name you?" 
    
    She shook her head. "Nah. Mom did that." 
    
    He frowned. He'd thought the demon dead. "Mom?" 
    
    "Not my real mom." She grinned at him. "A Mother Bazoar. She took care
    of my dad after he had me. He was real sick for a long time. Grandma
    wouldn't have anything to do with him. She's grandpa's wife. Everybody
    calls her mom." 
    
    "A Bazoar. Great." He really wished he hadn't known that. 
    
    *** 
    
    Ray was driving when Fraser suddenly slumped forward, looking pale and
    lax. "Frayze?" he asked cautiously, still on edge from last night's...hmm.
    Okay.  Attack. 
    
    "Ray..." The Mountie's voice was slurred, he looked like he was having
    a stroke. He looked dazed, his eyes full of confusion and pain.  As if
    he'd just killed his best friend. "Ray...?" 
    
    "Are you ok?" Panic seeped in. Something /was/ wrong. 
    
    Fraser shook his head, slowly. "No...Ray...get..." /Get help. Get out.
    Run. Run /now/. Oh, God, I'm so sorry..../ 
    
    "Get what?" pressed Ray, his own pain forgotten in light of Fraser's
    need. 
    
    Frase straightened up, just as suddenly he blinked rapidly. "Nothing.
    Nothing. I'm ok." 
    
    Kowalski flinched, withdrawing back inside himself. "You sure?" 
    
    "Yeah." 
    
    *** 
    
    "What?!" 
    
    Thatcher didn't look up from her computer screen, barely noticing the
    incredulous tone of voice from the constable. 
    
    "My dry cleaning, Fraser.  Go get it." 
    
    She didn't see the look of disbelief, then hatred that he cast her. 
    
    "Your dry cleaning.  Sure.  Like I've got nothing else to do in this
    dump," he muttered as he left her office.  He cast a glare at the seemingly
    brainless twit on the phone that had greeted him like a puppy this morning.
    What an annoying individual. 
    
    He entered his office, a very un-Fraser-like grin splitting his face
    as he sat at the desk and propped his legs up.  Kowalski last night had
    been...amusing.  It had been a long time since she'd enjoyed that kind
    of contact with a human.  All the more appealing since he /was/ a ghoulite
    and a prince.  And he'd struggled!  Hating it!  Delicious. 
    
    Screw the bitch and her friggin' laundry.  It was time for a little fun.
    He picked up the phone and dialed. 
    
    *** 
    
    "Canadian Consolate, Constable Renfield Turnbull speaking.  How may I
    help you?" 
    
    "You could die." 
    
    "I beg your pardon?" 
    
    "Or you could just...act that way." 
    
    *** 
    
    A minute later, Fraser exited his office.  Errands to run and all.  He
    never even glanced over at the desk where Constable Turnbull lay slumped
    over in a pale, unmoving heap.  He paused only to hang up the phone.
    The blood left smears on his fingers. 
    
    *** 
    
    Tom put the baby in its crib, watching him sleep, quietly. He gave a
    moments, thought, feeling a twinge. A knock on the slayer sense door.
    /Trouble...she....something's happening.../ 
    
    He steadied himself with a grip on the crib, blinking rapidly. He reached
    for the cell phone near the crib, dialing as fast as he dared. The consulate.
    Something had happened. 
    
    Four rings. Five. Six. 
    
    *** 
    
    Thatcher looked up as the phone rang for the tenth time. Why hadn't Turnbull
    answered it? She pursed her lips, frowning as she flung open the door
    to her office, intent on giving him a berating he'd never forget. 
    
    She gasped as she saw him slumped over the desk. Blood ran from his nose
    like water. Something had happened. Something very bad. Perhaps a stroke,
    perhaps worse. 
    
    *** 
    
    He finished shredding the dress that had been so meticulously cleaned,
    shoving it across the desk to the man working the counter. "Maybe you'll
    do it better, next time," he hissed, then turned on his heel, walking
    out. 
    
    *** 
    
    Twenty rings. He looked to the crib. Dief was at it now, peering at the
    baby with a befuddled look on his face. He watched them, head tilted.
    
    *** 
    
    It was Frannie who noticed Ray's funk and pointed it out to her brother.
    Kowalski was busy at his desk, sorting some paperwork.  He was unusually
    quiet and subdued, his movements lacking his usual energetic speed. 
    After watching him a minute, Vecchio closed in. 
    
    "Got the file on the Goya case?" he asked, watching carefully. 
    
    "Hmm?  Oh, hi, Vecchio.  What'd ya want?" 
    
    "Are you okay, Stan?  You seem out of it." 
    
    The blond - oh, god, he was blond again! - nodded, distracted.  "Yeah,
    I - no.  No, I'm..."  He pulled off his glasses and rubbed his eyes.
    "I...I didn't get much sleep last night.  Aja was cryin' and all." 
    
    Vecchio knew enough about body language that sleep was not the real issue
    here.  "Stan..." 
    
    "Listen, Vecchio, I don't wanna - " 
    
    "Stan." 
    
    He clamped up, putting his glasses back on hastily.  There was something
    desperate about his motions, his attitude.  Like he was on the verge
    of breaking. 
    
    "Is it Tom?  Calhoun?  You and Fraser having some kinda-" 
    
    Kowalski bolted out of his chair.  Too fast.  Vecchio knew he'd hit a
    nerve.  A pretty raw one, too, it seemed.  He lunged and caught Kowalski
    by the arm. 
    
    "This way." 
    
    He shoved his fellow detective into the supply closet, closing the door
    and turning on the light.  Folding his arms, he waited for the hyperactive
    ghoulite to calm his breathing. 
    
    "Stan?  What happened between last night and today?" 
    
    He made a strangled sound, his lips trembling, his whole body shivering
    at the memory.  "Fraser...attacked me," he finally said in a tiny whisper.
    He swallowed hard, unable to look up at Vecchio for fear of what he might
    see there, his thoughts racing back to the sarcasm and disdain he had
    been treated with in the past. 
    
    "Attacked you?" echoed the Italian, frowning.  Benny attacking anything,
    least of all the scrawny punk he was stupid in love with, was an image
    Vecchio could not generate.  Yet here was Kowalski, looking and acting
    as if the world had ended.  Perhaps for him it had.  Attacked?  Benny?
    It didn't seem possible.  But Kowalski wouldn't lie, either... 
    
    Evenly, he asked, "How?" 
    
    Ray slumped against the stacked boxes, shaking his head. 
    
    /Oh, god.../ 
    
    Suddenly the door opened.  Vecchio looked over to see red serge and a
    radiant smile. 
    
    "Benny," he greeted cautiously. 
    
    Kowalski whirled and Vecchio was convinced.  No way he could fake that
    kind of fear. 
    
    Fraser didn't seem to notice his lover's reaction.  "Can I come in, or
    is this an invitation only event?" 
    
    "We're discussing a case. Americans only. Sorry, Frasier." Vecchio pulled
    the door shut. /Oh God./ "When?" 
    
    "Last night. Maybe early this morning." 
    
    Vecchio nodded, suddenly pulling Ray into a hug. The kid looked like
    he needed it.  "It's ok. I'll take care of it. Bring Stella in if I have
    to." 
    
    *** 
    
    Tom kneeled in front of Dief, holding a cookie up. "What d'you know,
    Dief? There's something wrong, here. Can you tell me what it is?" He
    handed Dief the cookie, brushing his fingers against the wolfkid's as
    he did. Suddenly the wolf was clasping his hand, tightly. He could feel
    the wolf's fear and his hope of being understood. 
    
    His pack mate was not the same. The smell was wrong. Colder. Sinister.
    Wrong. Bad. Old. Full of hate. Full of anger. Wrong. Wrong. Wrong. 
    
    Tom pulled back as if burned. He was leaning heavily on a chair, breathing
    hard. This was bad. "It's not him, is it?" 
    
    Dief shook his head, once. 
    
    "A demon?" He could deal with demons. 
    
    Another head shake. 
    
    "Something worse." 
    
    A nod. His tail thumped against a cabinet. 
    
    /No./ 
    
    He looked to the phone as it rang once. James? Maybe. He went to it cautiously,
    looking at the caller ID box. Chicago PD. Ray. He picked it up, carefully.
    "Hello?" 
    
    "Tom." Fraser. "Close your eyes." The coldness in Fraser's voice was
    frightening. And familiar. 
    
    "What the hell are you up to, Lilith?" 
    
    Laughter. "So, you're on to me. Slayer." Another giggle. "Bet you didn't
    know I knew. I've been watching you." 
    
    "What did you do to Ray?" 
    
    "I just raped him.  Nothing much compared to what I did to Turnbull.
    Or what I'm going to do to you." 
    
    He dropped the phone, the opportunity to escape gone as light exploded
    in his head. 
    
    *** 
    
    Another knock on the store room door.  This time it was Francesca.  She
    looked worried but clearly there was more to her concern than her brother
    and substitute brother. 
    
    "Inspector Thatcher just called looking for Fraser.  Turnbull is in Cook
    County trauma ward.  It...it doesn't look good." 
    
    The two men stared as if they hadn't heard her.  "What?" Kowalski breathed.
    
    "They can't find out what's wrong with him yet," she panted, panic growing
    in her at the sight of their fear.  "I-I told Fraser.  He left in a rush
    - " 
    
    "What?  Oh, shit!"  Kowalski bolted out into the hall.  "Frannie, get
    hold of Thatcher!  Tell her not to let Fraser anywhere near Turnbull!
    Tell her...tell her..." 
    
    Vecchio strode past her as well, snagging Kowalski by the coat as he
    hurried past the detective.  "Tell her we're on our way.  Just don't
    let Fraser by Turnbull." 
    
    *** 
    
    A minute later they were in the Riv.  Kowalski, looking thin and worn,
    was losing his emotional battle. 
    
    "What the fuck is going on?" he wondered. 
    
    Vecchio shook his head.  "I guess she wasn't as dead as we wanted to
    believe." 
    
    "I-I-" 
    
    Kowalski started panting, looking around fearfully. 
    
    "Stan?  What's going on?  You getting a flash?" 
    
    The blond reached for his arm, fingers splayed as he awkwardly tried
    to grip his arm.  Vecchio recognized the movements.  Diefenbaker.  He
    always reached for things with fingers spread wide like that. 
    
    "Stan, is it Dief?  Where is he?  Your place?" 
    
    Mutely, Ray nodded. 
    
    "Damn."  Vecchio yanked the wheel around and they sped off in the opposite
    direction.  He dug in his pocket for his cell phone.  The phone was busy.
    Tom must be on the phone to Calhoun. Oh God.  He dialed again.  "Hello?
    Jay?" 
    
    *** 
    
    Warfield picked up his phone. "What?" 
    
    "S-sir?" It was one of Kowalski's McGet. The boy....Jay. He sounded unnerved.
    
    "Yes? What is it?" 
    
    "We...I...that is, Detective Vecchio thought you should know that Constable
    Turnbull is um..." 
    
    Warfield sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "The Seeker is what?
    Spit it out." 
    
    "In the hospital. Inspector Thatcher found him about ten minutes ago.
    They've got him in trauma." He paused. "Detective Vecchio believed Fraser
    might have had something to do with it. Lilith's influence he said. 
    Sir." 
    
    *** 
    
    Ray entered the apartment first, the sound of the baby screaming and
    Dief's padded movements around the dark apartment were almost frightening.
    That meant.... 
    
    Tom. 
    
    He was on the floor, his body shaking convulsively as he clutched the
    phone with bloody fingers. He was barely conscious, blood running quick
    from his nose. Vecchio swore, going to turn on the lights. He jumped
    when the bulb burst. 
    
    "Call a bus," Ray ordered Vecchio, feeling for Tom's pulse. He started
    when Tom grabbed his hand tight in his bloodied hand. 
    
    "Lil..." His voice was slurred, reminding him of Fraser this morning.
    "Frayz...er...Lil....in him...hurting..." He was babbling. Incoherent.
    
    Kowalski raised frightened eyes to Vecchio's.  "She's in Fraser.  Ohmygod."
    
    *** 
    
    Cassandra started awake on the plane. "Daddy?" she whispered, wide eyed.
    Calhoun's gaze went to her, and he turned cold. 
    
    *** 
    
    Thatcher grabbed Fraser's arm when he ran into the ER. "Where do you
    think you're going?" She demanded. They said stall. She could stall with
    the best. She was the queen of stall. 
    
    "Turnbull..." he began, trying to act normal. 
    
    "Can wait. You have duties, Constable. Only one of us need remain here.
    The consulate. Now." She nodded at Jay, waiting nervously in the wings.
    He had been praying she wouldn't mention the Mustang.  "Could you escort
    him there?" 
    
    Jay blanched as much as a vampire can blanch.  Fraser glared over at
    him, an evil light in his eyes. 
    
    "Go," ordered Thatcher, pushing the Slayer towards the door.  "I'll call
    you as soon as I know anything."  Her eyes narrowed as Jay stood riveted
    to his spot.  "Go!" 
    
    *** 
    
    "She must have pulled the same thing Irene did with Stella," reasoned
    Vecchio as he supported Tom down to the Riv.  Tom needed a hospital but
    true to form, he refused, finally agreeing to go to Vecchio's house to
    let Ma care for him.  Already waiting in the car was Dief and the baby
    and they settled Tom into the front seat.  He roused for a few moments,
    his mouth forming one word. 
    
    "Adam?" 
    
    Wondered Kowalski "Adam? You mean Caine?" 
    
    "Adam," Tom whispered. 
    
    "Aja," corrected Kowalski, settled next to the baby.  "Get us out of
    here, Vecchio." 
    
    "Adam....she...don't let her..." Tom stammered, fighting to stay awake.
    
    "What? What is it? Aja's in danger?" 
    
    "Adam..." Tom insisted. 
    
    "Fine. Adam..." 
    
    "She can't /know/. Don't let her /know/" 
    
    *** 
    
    Calhoun made his way to the plane's phone, dialing in his calling card
    number and then Kowalski's cell. "What's going on? Something's happened?"
    he demanded, keeping his eyes on Cassie. 
    
    "Where the hell are you?" 
    
    "I'm on my way back from getting Tom's daughter. What's happened?" 
    
    "Lilith." 
    
    *** 
    
    Jay and Fraser barely made it to the visitors parking lot when the Slayer
    attacked.  He seized the get by the jacket, slamming him against a car
    so hard the panel was dented.  Jay let out a yelp of pain and surprise
    as the Mountie leaned close to him, an unnatural gleam in his eyes. 
    
    "Care to join the Seeker?" he hissed, gripping the teen by his thick,
    black hair. 
    
    "NO!" screamed Jay. 
    
    "Hey!" 
    
    Fraser looked up at this new interruption.  Frank Zuko was moving towards
    them at a run from the rear of the lot.  Jay would have passed out from
    relief if it was possible. 
    
    "Not so easy, boy!" Fraser turned him so they were looking eye-to-eye.
    For one awful moment, the Canadian was still.  Then he dropped Jay and
    ran. 
    
    Zuko rushed to Jay's side.  The get had fallen into a heap, blood pouring
    from his nose and ears and mouth.  With an angry curse, Zuko lifted him.
    Was he gone?  It was so hard to tell. 
    
    *** 
    
    Thatcher entered the hospital room, watching Turnbull sleep. He looked
    dead. Apparently he did to Mina as well. She hadn't left his side since
    he'd been brought in. She was currently clutching at his hand, like she
    was his life line. 
    
    "How is he?" 
    
    "We still aren't sure-" She looked up as a nurse entered the room. 
    
    "We've got another one. They're bringing him in from the parking lot."
    
    Mina looked to Thatcher who nodded, "Go. I'll watch him." 
    
    *** 
    
    "Lilith?  She's not dead?" 
    
    "She's /in/ Fraser.  She pulled the same trick Aja did.  She also flattened
    Turnbull and now Tom." 
    
    "Damn.  Does she know about Caine?" 
    
    "No.  Fraser must be protecting him." 
    
    "Where are you now?" 
    
    "We're gonna drop Aja and Tom at Ma's, then get to the hospital." 
    
    "I'll get Cassie to the Vecchio's as well and join you there.  How is
    he?" 
    
    "Uh..."  Ray leaned over the seat to take a look.  "Uh, he's toasted."
    
    There was a long pause on the line.  Ray could envision the vampire rubbing
    his head.  Finally Calhoun said, "You know, some day we'll have what
    constitutes a normal week." 
    
    "Not with this outfit, Cal.  Call if there's any problems." 
    
    "You too." 
    
    *** 
    
    He walked along the street, ignoring the curious glances cast his way.
    It amused her that people were drawn to the uniform, amused her that
    Benton Fraser fought her every step of the way.  She had been distracted
    this morning and he had almost surfaced.  It would not happen again.
    
    She could feel him now, the guilt, the fear.  He was screaming in his
    mind for what she had done to his friends and lover...oh, last night
    had been rich!  She replayed the whole scene in her mind again, like
    a movie for him to watch and feel, enjoying his attempts at self-control.
    Oh, just let her get her hands on Kowalski again...he'd be hers all right.
    
    She hadn't been so tall in ages and she was enjoying the sensation of
    being able to look down on people.  Well, she'd left a job half-done
    when she hadn't killed the psychic whore last week.  Time to complete
    that task.  She turned his booted feet towards Kowalski's apartment.
    
    *** 
    
    Tom came around again outside the Vecchio house, lurching in his attempt
    to sit up. "I need the book..." He whispered, clutching Vecchio's shoulder
    for support. "Quick." 
    
    "What book?" Ray looked at Vecchio with some disdain. "Practically bleeds
    to death in the apartment, and he wants to read." 
    
    "No.I'm ok. I'll be ok..." Tom did sound better. Still a little slurry,
    but better. He rubbed his temples, thinking. "The book I hit him with.
    Where did you put it?" 
    
    "Turnbull took it. Put it in his desk. Why?" 
    
    "Can you get it?" 
    
    "Hey," shrugged Kowalski, "What's a little B&E in a good cause?" 
    
    "Whatever you do," breathed Tom, "Don't open it.  You won't survive."
    
    *** 
    
    Mina shook her head. What was happening? First Renfield, now Jay. And
    Elder Zuko said that the Slayer had done it. "Why?" she whispered to
    herself. She'd always believed him kind. Had something truly horrible
    changed him? 
    
    Someone entered the room.  Mina looked up at the vision with golden hair
    and cornflower blue eyes and she smiled in greeting, relief washing through
    her. 
    
    "Lady Eloise." 
    
    *** 
    
    She stared in fury at the empty apartment. Help had apparently arrived
    before she had. Turning Fraser's body to the phone, she picked it up,
    licking at the blood staining it and then dialing. "Mrs. Vecchio?" she
    said, grinning a ruthless grin with Fraser's lips. "Is Tom there? He
    is? Great..." 
    
    *** 
    
    "Thomas," called the Vecchio matriarch as the latest addition to her
    family sat down in the kitchen with his infant son.  "The phone is for
    you.  It's Benton." 
    
    Tom sucked in his breath, then took the phone.  Before the Slayer could
    speak a word Tom snapped, "Don't bother.  We'll be long gone by the time
    you get here." 
    
    "Whore!" hissed the Mountie's voice. 
    
    He hung up and calmly faced Mrs. Vecchio.  "Ma?  Mind if we all take
    a walk to the store?" 
    
    *** 
    
    Vecchio stood guard as Kowalski patiently picked the locks on the Consolate
    door.  It seemed to take forever, but after a few minutes Vecchio heard
    a small sound of satisfaction from his companion and the door was pushed
    open.  Turnbull's desk was open but for one drawer and the lock on that
    gave way at Kowalski's first try. 
    
    "Ew," muttered the blond.  The book was uglier than he remembered and
    smelled nasty to his heightened senses. 
    
    "Grissom owns this thing?" wondered Vecchio. 
    
    Wishing he had gloves, Kowalski lifted the heavy tome from the drawer.
    He didn't want it to touch his body and the binding felt...gross. 
    
    "Let's...get rid of this thing fast, okay?" 
    
    "That's not staying in my house," swore the Italian. 
    
    They were almost at the door when the flash hit. 
    
    ~~ 
    
    Baltimore, MD 1994 
    
    They lay in Tom's bed, feet entwined. Alderman Alex Vargas suddenly stood
    up, going to his briefcase. Tom watched him, wondering what he was up
    to. He looked amused when Vargas handed him the book. 
    
    "Gee. Thanks. Not often my friends give me books bound in flesh." He
    took it, gently. He wasn't sure he wanted to touch it. "What is it?"
    
    "The Necronomicon." Vargas kneeled by the bed, a strange look coming
    over his face. Dark. "It's a book of rites. How to keep vampires at bay,
    demon baby raising. Shit like that. Thought you might like it." 
    
    "Huh." Tom flipped it open. The pages turned quickly. "Kinda weird."
    
    Vargas nodded, entwining his fingers in Tom's, squeezing them lightly.
    "How do you feel?" 
    
    "Fine. A little queasy from that food you brought back. What was in it?"
    
    "Strychnine." Vargas said with a straight face. He looked at Tom when
    he laughed. "No. Really." 
    
    ~~~ 
    
    "What the hell?" Kowalski muttered under his breath, stumbling. He grabbed
    for Vecchio's arm, falling, clutching the book to his chest.  It felt...warm.
    Alive, almost. 
    
    It felt disgusting.  So did his stomach. 
    
    ~~~ 
    
    Tom sat up, slowly, staring at Vargas. "Excuse me?" 
    
    "Not a lot, mind you. But enough." 
    
    "Enough for what?" 
    
    "To weaken you, of course." He shoved the book back in Tom's hands. "Read."
    
    ~~~ 
    
    "Son of a bitch." 
    
    ~~~ 
    
    "What the hell is wrong with you?" Tom felt a pain in his stomach, and
    dropped the book again. He pushed away from Vargas, heading towards the
    bathroom. "Dammit, Alex. This isn't funny." 
    
    "It's Cecil, actually. Alex doesn't live here any more." 
    
    ~~~ 
    
    Vecchio kneeled by Ray, watching him closely. He wasn't sure what Ray
    was seeing, but it looked important. It didn't look as bad as the last
    one. 
    
    *** 
    
    Fraser's mind was reeling. What was he seeing? Why? 
    
    ~~~ 
    
    "See, I didn't think you'd agree to what I was planning, you being a
    cop and on the Demon Squad and all," the alderman was saying to the bathroom
    door, trying to sound reasonable.  "But, yeah, Tom, I killed Alex.  Sorta.
    Not his body, just his soul.  I needed his body to get to you." 
    
    A sound from the bathroom.  Tom was trying to vomit. 
    
    "I saw you working at the political convention in the Drewry Center last
    spring and I knew you were the right one." 
    
    "Oh God. A year? A year??" He felt hysterical. Everything hurt. The strychnine?
    Maybe. 
    
    ~~~~~ 
    
    Kowalski looked up at Vecchio like an animal caught in a trap.  He clawed
    at the book, trying to relax.  Let the vision flow.  It didn't hurt this
    time.  Just...took over. 
    
    ~~~~~ 
    
    "Tom, please come out.  There's something we have to discuss." 
    
    "Fuck you!" 
    
    Cecil droned on.  "I know I haven't got much time left.  Too many members
    of my family are pissed off at me for making a human out of myself over
    you.  They'll never understand, but I wanted to leave you with something.
    You did say you loved me." 
    
    "I loved Alex, you bastard!" 
    
    "It was still nice to hear!" exclaimed Cecil as if he was trying to make
    up over a lover's spat. 
    
    *** 
    
    /Ray?  Are you sending this?  Can you hear me?  Ray?/ 
    
    *** 
    
    "Frase," whimpered Kowalski tearfully. 
    
    It was the book. Not Tom. The book. The book /remembered/. 
    
    ~~~~~ 
    
    "Please come out, Tom.  I'll come in if you don't." 
    
    "Fuck off." 
    
    "Alright." 
    
    The door was yanked off its hinges.  The man that had been Alex Vargas
    strode into the bathroom and lifted the weakened cop in his arms. 
    
    "Tom, I can't promise this won't hurt, but it's all I can give you."
    
    "...no..." 
    
    ~~~~~ 
    
    Kowalski tossed his head.  "...no..." 
    
    ~~~~~ 
    
    The demon laid him back on the bed amidst cool sheets.  Suddenly his
    kisses were as poison to Grissom, but there was no escape.  He felt hands
    running up and down his body, caressing him. 
    
    "My house is ancient.  We never consort with humans.  They'll be after
    me for this.  Lie still, love." 
    
    "No," he begged, guessing what was coming. 
    
    ~~~ 
    
    Ray threw his head back as he felt stabs of pain in his stomach. "Oh...God...Don't..."
    
    *** 
    
    /Ray? *Ray??*/ 
    
    ~~~ 
    
    "Stop. Please. Stop." Tom watched as Alex's body fell to the floor, leaving
    the demon creature hovering above Tom. This was worse than when he was
    younger. He knew what was happening now, could fight it. But it only
    made it hurt worse. 
    
    The worst part about it, the most horrible thing of it all, was that
    he probably would have agreed to it had he known. He squeezed his eyes
    shut, trying desperately not to think about it. 
    
    He felt himself sit up, head tilting back as he gasped in pain. He felt
    claws in him, and screamed. Silently. 
    
    As the burning, filling sensation finally slowed to a stop, he felt Alex...no.
    Cecil. He felt Cecil climb back onto the bed beside him, back in Alex's
    body. He rolled onto his side, facing away from the demon. His knees
    went up to his chest, and he trembled at the feel of arms around him.
    "Bastard..." 
    
    "It's all right..." He felt the book slip into his hands. "Read." 
    
    "What-" 
    
    "Just read. And live..." 
    
    "I hate you..." 
    
    "I know. I'm sorry. I love you." A hand pressed against his stomach,
    tightly. "You can feel it, can't you?" 
    
    ~~~ 
    
    "Son of a bitch..." Ray murmured again. "He knew him..." 
    
    "What?" 
    
    "Cecil. He knew Cecil..." He managed before he was taken under again.
    
    He could see Lilith...no Fraser. Burning. Screaming. So much pain. Turnbull
    dead. Tom dead. Ma dead. No. 
    
    Then something turned and /looked/ at him.  Something impossibly old
    and huge and evil.  He caught a glimpse of a long, snake-like body, scaley
    flesh and eyes that would frighten God or Satan.  Then darkness. 
    
    *** 
    
    /Ray.../ 
    
    *** 
    
    Tom stared at the book as Ray handed it to him, tight lipped. "Good.
    This is...good." They were sitting in the GTO outside of the store he,
    Ma, Dief and the baby had walked to. "This'll work..." 
    
    Ray nodded once, not sure he wanted to know what Tom had planned. "You
    um...you weren't here officially, were you?" 
    
    "What?" 
    
    "Cecil. You were hunting him down. No one was after him except you. Right?"
    
    Tom didn't say anything for a minute. That was all the answer Ray needed.
    "Jesus, Tom..." 
    
    "He killed /someone/." 
    
    "I know. The Alderman. And he poisoned and raped you. I know. I saw."
    
    Tom wasn't sure what to say to that. "You what?" 
    
    "The book." Ray closed his eyes. "The book remembers." 
    
    *** 
    
    They dropped Ma and the baby at Warfield's.  It was the only place they
    could think of where they would be safe.  Warfield immediately tried
    to take over the child rearing while Ma stood her ground and gave him
    an earful.  Ray, Ray, and Tom looked on in amusement, knowing the only
    that wasn't safe here was Warfield. 
    
    Kowalski pulled Warfield away from Ma's steely glare for a moment. 
    
    "Quite a woman," commented the prince. 
    
    Kowalski shrugged.  "She always tries ta get me ta eat.  Any word on
    Turnbull or Jay?" 
    
    "Not yet.  I've contacted Lady Eloise-achoo!" 
    
    "Bless you.  Sorry." 
    
    "Please dye it again." 
    
    "Yeah.  Yeah.  Eloise?  She goin' to the hospital?" 
    
    "Yes.  I sent Marco to escort her there earlier, then he'll guard the
    Seeker since the hospital is in my territory and he is responsible for
    the Seeker's safety."  He sneezed again. 
    
    "Sorry.  Listen, Calhoun flew to Baltimore to get Tom's daughter.  Can
    they stay here?" 
    
    Warfield flinched.  "Tom and his children?  Yes." 
    
    "No. Calhoun." 
    
    "No." 
    
    "For now?  I know you hate him, but Aja - I mean Caine, is cool with
    him and Tom is raising Caine again as it were and Calhoun's gonna be
    Caine's other parent kinda, I think, so..." 
    
    "My life was much simpler before you entered it, Prince Kowalski.  I
    always knew Marcus Ellery hated me.  I just never realised how much."
    
    Ray grinned.  One victory down. 
    
    *** 
    
    Vecchio peered over Tom's shoulder, trying to get a glimpse into the
    book. Tom glanced up at him, sharply. "You value your sanity, Detective?"
    He asked, seriously. Vecchio backed off. 
    
    He traced his fingers on the cover. Something felt very familiar about
    this book. /Very/ familiar. He closed it, quietly as Ray entered the
    car. "Ready?" 
    
    "Yeah. What do we need to do?" 
    
    "We need to lure her somewhere powerful." Tom looked up, thinking. "Somewhere
    with a lot of psychic energy." 
    
    "The 13th." 
    
    Tom nodded.  That would be acceptable.  "There's some things I need.
    One of them is in my car.  The rest we can get in some new-age shop."
    
    "Where's yer car?" asked Kowalski. 
    
    "Outside my apartment.  It's at - " 
    
    "I know where you lived.  What am I getting?" 
    
    "A bottle of holy water." 
    
    "Stan," said Vecchio, "I'll get it." 
    
    "Promise I'll resist the urge to drink it, Vecchio.  You go.  I gotta
    think anyway.  What car?  Got the keys?" 
    
    "Here.  You can't miss it.  It's lime green.  Right outside the apartment
    building." 
    
    He stared at the key.  "I'll try not to miss it." 
    
    *** 
    
    The Vecchio house was empty, but she checked just to be sure.  The place
    stank of humans and the werewolf and the undead. 
    
    Undead?  Not Calhoun.  Not Kowalski's stupid little get.  Who was that?
    It was familiar. 
    
    "Well, Constable, where next?  Where would they take the whore and his
    spawn?  What, no answer for me?  Pity. Well, I guess we'll just try the
    slut's brothel next." 
    
    *** 
    
    A Gremlin.  A lime green Gremlin.  A thousand curses on the acid-tripping
    jerk that ever designed the Gremlin.  Ray was embarrassed to even go
    near it, let alone let it be know he possessed the key for it.  He let
    a few cars pass and made sure the street was empty before he darted over
    and opened the passenger door. 
    
    /Oh, god, please don't let anyone I know drive down this street./ 
    
    He found the small bottle under the front passenger seat and he slid
    it into his coat pocket before hastily exiting the tiny /lime green/
    car.  It hurt even through his red-tinted glasses.  He locked it up,
    turned, and walked smack into - 
    
    Fraser. 
    
    "Hello, Ray," smiled the Mountie, then seized him. 
    
    *** 
    
    Vecchio looked at the list Tom had given him, and looked up at the shelf
    in front of him. "What the hell's a Bazoar?" he muttered, looking for
    someone, anyone, who might work here. 
    
    A rather strange looking demon woman stepped towards him. "Can I help
    you, sir?" 
    
    "Uh. I need these." He handed her the list. She gave it a once over.
    
    "Oh, a ritual exorcism, eh?  Doing it yourself?" 
    
    "It's for a friend." 
    
    *** 
    
    She?  He?  yanked Ray into a narrow alley and bodily slammed the detective
    against the wall.  Stunned by the force of the blow, Ray shook his head,
    trying to twist away, out of that iron grip.  A laugh escaped the Mountie
    at his helplessness, and if nothing else convinced Ray that Fraser was
    possessed by the vampire queen, it was that awful, sadistic laugh. 
    
    "Going so soon, lover boy?" wondered Lilith.  "So...where's the whore?
    Or do I have one in my hands right now?  I take it you didn't have as
    much fun as I did last night." 
    
    One of Fraser's big hands lashed out, slapping him across the face. 
    Then his glasses were plucked off his face and he let out a cry of pain
    despite the shadows in the alley.  He heard them hit the ground. 
    
    "Don't like that, do you?  Do you like this?" 
    
    Fraser's mouth clamped over his in a kiss that was the farthest thing
    from pleasurable.  It was like last night - selfish and cruel.  Suffocating.
    His jaws were forced open and he felt Fraser's - no, /Lilith's/ tongue
    in his mouth, damn near down his throat.  It hurt.  Choked him... 
    
    Ray jerked his knee up, landing a blow squarely into Fraser's groin.
    That got a reaction.  With a cry of pain the Slayer staggered back, dropping
    him.  Ray ducked down, squinting to find his glasses.  Lilith was glaring
    at him, furious at the pain Ray had caused this body, but unable to move
    fast enough to smash his glasses before he snatched them up. 
    
    Across the alley, he paused. 
    
    "We'll be at the 13th.  You know the address.  See ya there." 
    
    Then he turned and ran like hell, praying she didn't recover soon enough
    to catch him.  If she got wind of what Tom was doing... 
    
    *** 
    
    He opened the book to the correct passage, placing candles in exactly
    the right spots. Vecchio had brought him the right supplies and Ray the
    holy water, expressing disdain at anyone who owned a Gremlin. He could
    explain it later. Right now, he needed to be... 
    
    "Alone?  Alone?  Are you unhinged?" 
    
    "For this type of exorcism, I have to be.  It's dangerous enough for
    me.  I don't want to risk anyone else getting hurt." 
    
    Vecchio frowned unhappily as Stan and Tom went at it.  Stan was looking
    winded and there was a nice bruise on his jaw.  Finally he voiced a question
    that had been nagging him for a while. 
    
    "Where will Lilith go?  Once she's out of Fraser?" 
    
    Stan latched onto that instantly.  "Yeah, Mr. Smartie Pants, ya got a
    new home for the super-powerful vamp queen?" 
    
    Tom put a hand on Ray's arm.  "Yes.  Please, she's on her way." 
    
    Vecchio pulled Kowalski away.  "We'll be at the hospital with Turnbull."
    When he turned his back, he barely heard the pages turn rapidly. 
    
    He finally did notice, and looked at them. 
    
    Each heading flipped by read a different word: 
    
    DANGERous chemicals 
    
    GET OUT a stick of raspberry incense 
    
    RUNning holy water is sufficient... 
    
    He shut the book, quickly. Footsteps came up behind him and he 
    froze. "Lilith." 
    
    "Whore." He felt Fraser's hands on his shoulder, and uncapped the bottle
    underneath the table. When he was whirled around, he splashed a bit on
    the Mountie. 
    
    Fraser merely shook it off, growling low.  "That's not holy water," he
    grinned, shaking his head. 
    
    Tom swigged back a capful of it. "Hmm. No, I know. What would a demon
    do with Holy Water, Lilith? Cecil might've been over zealous, but he
    wasn't stupid." 
    
    She frowned, slowly. "What are you saying?" 
    
    Tom picked up the book, hefting it in his hands. "Whaddya think I'm saying?"
    With out warning, he lashed out. The book caught Fraser in the temple
    hard. Fraser dropped like a rock. 
    
    James was right.  It was a formidable weapon in the right hands. 
    
    *** 
    
    Calhoun entered Turnbull's hospital room, watching Kowalski closely.
    "Elder." 
    
    "Cal. That's her?" Ray grinned halfway at Cassie. She smiled, suddenly
    shy in front of a prince. 
    
    "How is Turnbull?" 
    
    "We've got Eloise here.  She's with Mina now.  She thinks she may be
    able to help since the problem seems to be purely physical. Basically,
    she says he's alive in there, she just needs to remind his body how to
    work.  We're not sure if she'll be able to do anything for Jay." 
    
    "Jay?  She got Jay, too?  Oh, god."  He swallowed.  Jay.  He was Calhoun's
    childe, entrusted to Ray. 
    
    "You know," Ray suddenly said in wonderment, "maybe you need to have
    a long talk with Tom. He's keeping stuff from us. Big stuff." 
    
    "And where is Tom?" Calhoun tilted his head. He'd expected Tom to be
    at Warfield's. In the entire week before he'd gone to get Cassie, the
    psychic had never left the baby's side. 
    
    Ray sighed, rolling his eyes. "Exorcising Fraser. Alone." 
    
    "Alone?" 
    
    "He said it had to be alone." 
    
    "Oh God..." 
    
    "He...wanted some holy water from in his car," mused Ray, thinking. 
    Calhoun frowned. 
    
    "Car?  You mean that green abomination he took from that alderman that
    Cecil killed?" 
    
    Ray shook his head.  "That was Cecil's car.  You know any alderman on
    this planet that would drive a Gremlin?" 
    
    "Why would a demon have holy water?  It doesn't effect them like us."
    
    An image of Fraser lying pale and helpless flashed through Ray's mind.
    A bitter taste on his tongue.  A twisting pain in his gut.  Like when
    he'd held the Necronomicon. He'd seen this before.  He just remembered
    now... 
    
    "It's not water," breathed Ray.  He raised frightened eyes to the Sabbat
    Elder.  "It's strychnine." 
    
    Calhoun's look of horror was plenty enough for him. 
    
    *** 
    
    Lilith came to on the floor of the 13th. Her...Fraser's wrists were bound
    to a desk, his legs to a chair. "...the way I see it, Lilith, you've
    got two choices here. I can /make/ you come out of his body, or you can
    do it willingly." 
    
    "And what? Go into /you/? I don't think so." 
    
    Tom shrugged. "Thirsty?" 
    
    Fraser was. He nodded. Tom put the bottle to Fraser's lips tilting it
    back. It tasted....bad. Poisoned. 
    
    "You son of a..." Lilith gasped. 
    
    Tom nodded. "Probably. But I'm a son of a bitch who pays attention."
    He shook the bottle, glanced at it, then downed the last mouthful.  "Sorry,
    Ben, but anything's better than having her in your head." 
    
    Fraser gave him a look of agreement. 
    
    "So what's it going to be?  Come along peacefully, or am I going to have
    to muss you up?" 
    
    "As if you could." 
    
    "Well, Fraser's poisoned.  I'm poisoned.  You don't have too many options.
    Correct me if I'm wrong, but you have to jump ship /before/ the body
    dies or you go with it.  You're pretty limited here." 
    
    "Bastard!" 
    
    "No, that's James.  I'm the psychic whore.  Get it straight." 
    
    *** 
    
    "Oh, look!  There it is!" 
    
    "That castle?" 
    
    "It's the 13th.  The Haunted House, the cop I spoke to called it." 
    
    "The one I spoke to called it the Psycho Ward.  It looks it." 
    
    "Come on, Sue, let's go check it out.  I bet it's all full of vibes."
    
    "There's a police line up, Lily." 
    
    "Don't be a chicken!" 
    
    "Lily!" 
    
    "Come on, Sue!  Tch.  You chicken!" 
    
    *** 
    
    The Slayer began to struggle against the bonds.  Tom waited patiently,
    knowing Fraser was too weak to escape.  He felt his own stomach churning,
    ingesting the poison.  He was feeling sick and dizzy but he didn't mind
    this time. 
    
    "Sink or swim, Lilith." 
    
    "I can't jump to you! You son of a bitch..." She struggled harder, hurting
    Fraser's wrists in the process. "You bastard..." 
    
    "Poor baby." He sat with a heavy thud. He was getting woozy now, sweating
    bad. His stomach churned and lurched, trying to force him to throw up.
    He buried his head in his hands, trying to steady himself. "Let me know
    when it starts to hurt." 
    
    He looked up and to the side as the door opened. What the hell? A rather
    dishevelled looking young woman entered. She stared at them, blankly.
    Unnaturally pale skin and dark make-up making her appear undead.  The
    sight before her - candles, one man tied, one holding a book, both looking
    drunk - clearly startled her.  Not what she expected from the 13th. 
    "Um..." 
    
    "Get...get out. Run..." He stammered, his hands shaking badly. He looked
    at Fraser, fearfully. Fraser's face had gone blank. Then it slowly returned
    to normal. No. Oh God. 
    
    He looked to the pale-faced girl.  The fear in her eyes was replaced
    by cunning.  Her mouth twisted into a smile. 
    
    He didn't hear Fraser's word of warning when he felt the girl kick him,
    hard, in the side. He fell, making a grab for the book. He missed and
    it flew open. 
    
    "Stupid whore..." She hissed, kicking again. Fraser struggled in his
    bonds, desperate to help him. "Did you think you could stop me?" She
    laughed. "You've only made it worse on yourself." Another kick. Harder.
    He felt something give. 
    
    *** 
    
    Calhoun yanked open the door to the 13th, shocked by the silence. Ray
    glanced at him, pulling out his gun. "Tom? Frase?" Ray called quietly.
    They could hear...something. Choking? 
    
    "Yours or mine?" wondered Ray softly, creeping up the stairs.  "Stick
    close." 
    
    Calhoun's expression was dark.  "You may not want me to if Tom is hurt."
    
    "Ooooo-kay.  I'm gonna call for back up."  He pulled out his cell phone,
    dialing quickly. Calhoun winced at a sudden shout. He started making
    his way back up. "Where the hell are you going?" 
    
    "Someone's hurt...." 
    
    "You don't know that." 
    
    *** 
    
    Tom could barely feel the final kicks, concentrating on trying to get
    the book. He heard a choking noise coming from Fraser, and tried to lift
    his head. Nothing was working right. Nothing would lift or move. 
    
    He saw her lean down and scoop up the book. He clawed at her boots, her
    legs, hard. Drawing blood from her skin. "Measure for a measure, right
    Tom?" 
    
    Tom grunted, everything going black as the book hit him. He heard a similar
    cry from the constable before blacking out. 
    
    Slowly, she turned towards the door as she heard the creaking of the
    stairs. 
    
    *** 
    
    Ray was the first to enter, staring wide eyed as a woman with wild looking
    hair felt for Tom's pulse, then Fraser's. "Oh my God..." 
    
    Calhoun looked ike he was going to stroke. If that were possible. He
    pulled the girl's hands off of Tom.  She stared up at him, fearfully.
    "I found him like this, I swear!!" 
    
    He stared at her long and hard.  Ray was starting to squirm for her when
    he realised she was somehow enduring a look that could strip the paint
    off a battleship from a man that made Hitler look chummy. 
    
    "See to Tom and Fraser, Prince Kowalski," he ordered.  "And check the
    book." 
    
    "They're for the emergency room," stated Kowalski.  He twisted right
    where he crouched and reached for the copy of the Necronomicon.  It still
    felt disgusting and warm.  "This is...is..." 
    
    "No!" cried the girl.  She appeared...angry. 
    
    "Why not?" wondered Calhoun, eyes narrowing. 
    
    She swallowed, then stammered, "It-it'll kill him.  He can't open it."
    
    "He doesn't need to open it." 
    
    ~~~~~ 
    
    The Dead.  Countless Dead.  Millions of souls.  Untold suffering and
    misery in the lightless bowels of hell.  So many souls trapped they blocked
    the sun.  There was only one point of joy in this pit, and that joy was
    malicious and twisted and rotted from within. 
    
    ~~~~~ 
    
    Kowalski's head snapped back, his hand on the leather binding as his
    chest heaved and his wirey body tensed. 
    
    "What is he doing?" wondered the girl. 
    
    He cocked his head as he heard sirens.  "He's not doing anything." 
    
    ~~~~~ 
    
    Yellow, reptilian eyes.  Huge.  Like a lake.  Shiny and vicious and cold.
    A voice, deep and malevolent, sending a chill through him worse than
    anything he'd felt in Canada. 
    
    ~~~~~ 
    
    "Sum Wyrm, sub Terra!" 
    
    ~~~~~ 
    
    He didn't know he'd spoken those words aloud. 
    
    *** 
    
    Calhoun watched as Kowalski was knocked back and away as if from an electric
    shock.  He hurried over only to find the detective was shivering, his
    skin freezing cold.  He was completely unconscious, and in a thrill of
    horror, Calhoun recognized what had happened. 
    
    Kowalski had seen the Wyrm. 
    
    There was a laugh behind him, and suddenly James Calhoun /knew./ 
    
    Shit. 
    
    Slowly, he turned. She wasn't a vampire, not any longer. But even in
    this body she was still strong. The body of a young girl, the mind of
    an ancient. He sighed, looking down at Tom. He felt on the verge of frenzy
    and his voice was deep with unspoken threats. "Lilith..." 
    
    Sirens wailed and there was a shout as brakes squealed.  Suddenly she
    scooped up the book, facing it away from her. She yanked it open and
    Calhoun averted his eyes quickly, throwing himself behind a column in
    the center of the room. He'd already had his dealings with near insanity,
    thank you. 
    
    By the time he looked back, she was gone. 
    
    *** 
    
    Mina looked up from filling out charts. The aide was saying something
    to her. "We've got two cases of strychnine poisoning coming in. A case
    of hypothermia..." 
    
    "It's summer!" She ran with several of the doctors as gurneys burst into
    the ER one by one. She gasped. "Oh God." 
    
    *** 
    
    Warfield grabbed his phone, watching Ma and the baby with one eye. Adam.
    What sort of name was that for a vampire king? He snorted.  Between /Caine/,
    Diefenbaker, and now Grissom's other demon child, Cassandra, his headquarters
    was looking less like a coven and more like...day care.  Deep down, Warfield
    enjoyed the presence of so many new faces after untold years of solitude
    and he was deriving immense pleasure out of arguing with Vecchio's mother.
    
    "Warfield." 
    
    "They're being brought in, sire," Marco whispered, urgently. 
    
    "Who?" 
    
    "The Slayer, Prince Kowalski and the seer. It looks bad." 
    
    "I'll get Elder Zuko there.  How is the Seeker?" 
    
    "Lady Eloise said she would know by tonight.  He has a pulse now, at
    least." 
    
    "Let us hope." 
    
    *** 
    
    The healthiest of the three who had been hospitalized, Fraser was the
    first to recover his senses.  He was aware first of being warm and in
    bed, and slowly his mind pieced together that he was in a hospital. 
    He felt nauseous and his body was remarkably sore, but he also realised
    that Lilith no longer had any command over him and for that he was infinitely
    grateful.  He just enjoyed the sensation of being alone in his mind.
    What she had made him do to his friends and especially to Ray - well,
    he would have to wait until later to deal with that. 
    
    Thoughts of Ray made him look for the detective but there was no sign
    of him.  Fraser sighed.  Perhaps he was frightened or too hurt by Lilith's
    actions to separate him from what she did.  A feeling of despair, of
    abandonment, welled up in Fraser's chest at the thought of losing Ray.
    
    Suddenly a voice cut through the silent darkness of the room.  "Glad
    to see one of you is awake." 
    
    "C-Calhoun?" he whispered, his throat dry. 
    
    "Right here."  The vampire moved into Fraser's line of vision.  "Before
    you ask, the Seeker is awake.  Eloise managed to bring him back to the
    world of the living and as far as I can tell he's his usual schizoid
    self and should be released this afternoon." 
    
    "Jay?" he whispered, hope welling within his breast. 
    
    Calhoun poured him some water and held it as Fraser drank.  "Zuko woke
    him up.  A good, hard slap.  He just needed a jump-start since he's dead
    already and according to the Seeker, Lilith said to act that way.  You
    and Tom are being treated for strychnine poisoning." 
    
    "Mmm.  I remember that." 
    
    Calhoun glared.  Fraser could actually feel the Sabbat's disapproval
    in that cold look.  "When Tom wakes up I want to kick him myself." 
    
    Fraser smiled faintly.  "It worked, then?" 
    
    "Partially.  Some empty-headed idiot of a girl entered the 13th at the
    worst possible time and Lilith entered her.  She escaped and took that
    damned book with her." 
    
    "Book?" 
    
    Calhoun looked guilty.  "The Necronomicon.  It makes a good club." 
    
    The Slayer blinked.  He'd missed something here. 
    
    The Sabbat gazed at him evenly and the look was calming now. 
    
    "Where is Tom?" he asked, avoiding the real issue. 
    
    "He's in the next room.  Vecchio's sister and his daughter are with him
    right now.  They don't expect him to wake up until late tonight." 
    
    Fraser swallowed.  "And...where is Ray?" 
    
    "He's two floors up." 
    
    Fraser's heart seemed to faint.  "What?" 
    
    "Something happened.  Vecchio said something similar happened yesterday,
    too.  When he touched the book, he had visions.  Not flashes.  The book
    channelled through him." 
    
    "Why is he in the hospital?"  Fraser struggled to sit up but was easily
    held in place by the vampire's hand. 
    
    "He got a collect call from Hell.  He saw the Wyrm of the Earth." 
    
    A gasp escaped the Canadian. 
    
    "He's being treated for severe hypothermia and frostbite on both hands."
    
    "Will he be alright?" 
    
    "Eloise thinks so." 
    
    Fraser closed his eyes, sighing with relief. "Thank God."  He paused,
    not wanting to be impolite, but curious.  "Why are you here?" 
    
    "I go where I'm needed.  Don't forget I had her in me, too.  I know what
    it's like.  I thought you might need to talk." 
    
    Fraser nodded.  "I think we both do." 
    
    "Yeah.  Then I think I'll go find out if I'm still capable of getting
    drunk." 
    
    *** 
    
    Ray shivered, trying to burrow deeper into the blankets piled around
    him. Even in Canada, he'd never been this cold. Or this afraid. What
    he'd seen...it'd been to terrible for words. 
    
    He looked up as Zuko entered. "What's up?" His voice sounded hoarse.
    God, was he coming down with something again? He hoped not. 
    
    "Not much." Zuko shrugged. "The Seeker is recovering nicely according
    to Lady Eloise.  Mina is with him now.  Your get is also awake, Prince
    Kowalski.  The Seer is going be fine. Probably be in here a while." 
    
    "The Seer?" Ray grinned. 
    
    "Warfield's taken to calling him that." Zuko rolled his eyes. "He's been
    arguing with Mrs. Vecchio all day. I think he's got a crush on her."
    
    Ray groaned, sighing at the same time. "Whatever, Zuko." He paused. "Hey.
    Can you do me a favor?" 
    
    "Name it." 
    
    "I want you to check out some deep background on uh...the Seer. Stuff
    that wouldn't show up in police records." 
    
    Zuko tilted his head. "You think something's up?" 
    
    "I..." He shrugged. "I dunno. He's hiding something." 
    
    Zuko's eyes narrowed.  He was in a rare good mood and he threw some of
    Kowalski's own words back at him.  "Nosey Parker."  Then he sneezed.
    
    "Gotcha." 
    
    *** 
    
    When Ray awoke the next day, he was still cold and his hands ached, but
    it wasn't as bad as the day before.  It was dark in the room, but he
    could see there were flowers and a pile of cards in the bed stand. He
    didn't feel well enough to open them yet, but it was nice to see... 
    
    "Ray?" 
    
    He gasped, not sure if he should be afraid or glad to hear Fraser's voice.
    He shifted amongst the blankets and turned his eyes towards the Mounted
    Slayer.  There he sat in a wheel chair beside the bed, all dark and fair
    and gorgeous.  Ray tried to speak, but words failed him utterly at the
    the anxious worry in his Mountie's eyes. 
    
    Lilith never would have looked at him that way.  Fraser didn't move,
    looking for all the world like a deer in the headlights.  He was afraid.
    Terrified.  Ray could see it in his every move.  He made no move to touch
    Kowalski, just sat there and gazed at him and begged forgiveness with
    his eyes. 
    
    Ray snaked one bandaged hand from beneath the covers and reached for
    him tentatively.  "Frase?  Benton?" 
    
    He looked at the hand.  "Ray, I - I - need to explaine-" 
    
    "No, you don't." 
    
    "Ray, what I did - " 
    
    "You didn't do," he whispered.  "It wasn't you." 
    
    "I...I..." He looked longingly at Ray, his hand, and he ached to touch
    the American.  His voice was little better than a whisper.  "I...don't
    want to do anything you don't want." 
    
    "Do you love me?" wondered Kowalski. 
    
    Fraser nodded, gazing at him steadily.  "More than life." 
    
    "Then love me, Fraser." 
    
    Gently, he took the proffered hand in both of his.  Pressing a kiss to
    the cloth-wrapped fingers, the Slayer promised, "Forever." 
    
    "Promise?" Ray pulled him closer and into as much of a hug he could manage.
    He kissed Fraser's cheek, lightly. Affectionately. 
    
    "I promise." 
    
    "It wasn't you." He hugged tighter. 
    
    "I know..." 
    
    *** 
    
    Tom's eyes opened, slowly. He ached everywhere. New pains erupted every
    time he moved. He could hear the baby crying, and instinctively tried
    to sit up to take care of it. Pain in his stomach made him lurch. He
    felt hands making him lie back down. 
    
    "Tom. Rest. Everything's ok." Calhoun soothed, squeezing Tom's hand tight.
    "Sh..." 
    
    Tom wished he could believe that. He groped for the vampire's cold hand
    and let the darkness take him once again. 
    
    *** 
    
    He moved through the halls, staring at the room numbers nervously. He
    had his hands behind his back. He'd been shocked when Elder Zuko had
    given him the assignment to look into the Seer's past. Even more shocked
    when he'd realised who the Seer was. He stopped in front of the room,
    pausing to take a deep breath before pushing open the door and entering.
    
    Tom looked up, holding the baby sleepily. He gaped at Cecil, shocked.
    "Oh God...." 
    
    He smiled in speechless delight at the sight of Tom Grissom.  It was
    a struggle, but finally he found his voice. 
    
    "Tom!  Oh, Tom, it's wonderful to see you!" 
    
    "But...but..." 
    
    "I have to thank Prince Kowalski.  Elder Zuko never would have sent me
    unless he asked after you." 
    
    "What?  What has Ray got to do with-oh, the hell with it.  It is so good
    to see you again, Cecil."  He noticed the demon's attention kept drifting
    to the bundle in his arms and he smiled.  "You've got a son." 
    
    "A-A-A-" 
    
    "Son." 
    
    "Oh, Tom!"  Cecil clasped his hands adoringly.  "Tell me you named him
    Brick!" 
    
    Tom closed his eyes, trying not to shudder as he remembered the demon's
    obsession with that horrid name. 
    
    "No." 
    
    *** 
    
    There was laughter spilling out from the room as he approached.  He recognized
    Tom's weak voice immediately, but the other person he could not place.
    Not quite human, either, he noticed, sniffing the air.  Who...? 
    
    He entered Tom's hospital room.  The psychic was in bed, of course, holding
    Caine and talking to the man sitting on the edge of the bed.  Calhoun
    hesitated.  He'd seen this man the first time he'd probed Tom's memories.
    The emotions attached were deep and extreme.  Even now, he could sense
    something different about Tom and his needs.  If only for the moment,
    this man was the focal point of Tom's life. 
    
    Not Calhoun. 
    
    Tom sensed him and looked up with a smile on his face.  "James!" he exclaimed.
    "James, I want you to meet Cecil Noor." 
    
    He turned his glare on the demon spawn.  Cecil was a good six inches
    shorter and Calhoun had the pleasure of seeing him quail before the hard
    look. 
    
    "Cecil, this is James Calhoun.  He's-" 
    
    "Leaving," snapped the Sabbat so harshly Cecil flinched.  He turned on
    his heel. 
    
    "James, wait, please!" called Tom, struggling to rise.  He gasped and
    fell back, mindful of the baby asleep beside him.  "James, wait!  Where
    are you going?" 
    
    "Somewhere where I'm needed," he threw over his shoulder, storming out.
    
    "Oh, god, James, wait!" cried Tom, realising.  "James!" 
    
    *** 
    
    Prince Kowalski was not in his room.  Calhoun glowered, suddenly hating
    the hospital and himself for wasting so much time and so many hopes here.
    Damn it, for the first time in over a century he'd had an actual sense
    of happiness.  Of belonging. 
    
    He'd been deluding himself.  Maybe he was the fool Lilith had called
    him.  Maybe she was right...no.  She was twisted and she had twisted
    him as well.  Calhoun closed his eyes, trying to calm the murderous rage
    in his heart.  He needed to talk. 
    
    Fraser. 
    
    *** 
    
    "...So what I'm sayin', Tom, is that if yer Aja's dad and Aja's my dad,
    that makes you my grandfather and yer infant son has a grandson that
    sheds year round." 
    
    Despite his worry about James' anger, Tom smiled at Kowalski's logic.
    
    "So...that would make the McGet your children along with Dief?" 
    
    "Guess so.  Shouldn't be surprised by anything any more since my new
    dad is a five-thousand-plus-year old demon baby named Caine." 
    
    "Adam." 
    
    "Aja." 
    
    "Adam." 
    
    "I thought you weren't gonna give him some hokey weird name." 
    
    "Stanley was already taken." 
    
    "Hardy-har-har.  Don't listen to him, Aja.  We'll save you.  We'll use
    your /real/ name." 
    
    "If you do, I will, Stanley." Tom's frown was serious. 
    
    "Skunk." 
    
    *** 
    
    Fraser watched Calhoun pace in front of him, getting almost dizzy from
    the motions, like a wild animal that suddenly realised it was caged.
    "You wanted to kill him." 
    
    "Both of them. I just...I haven't felt like this in so long." Calhoun
    sat, staring at the patterns on the floor. "I don't know...I think, maybe..."
    
    "You love him?" Of that, Fraser had no doubt. The vampire had put himself
    through so many obstacles to save Tom's life. 
    
    "He saved me..." 
    
    "How?" 
    
    "I'd lost it in Canada. Went completely nuts. My wife...it happened there.
    Where Lilith gathered all of us...Suddenly I was Autarkis for no apparent
    reason." 
    
    "She was using you to gain the Sabbat." 
    
    "I know that now.  At the time, though, I'd suddenly lost everything
    I had been building for decades.  I had been building that clan since
    just after the Great - I mean the first World War.  And in one look they
    were taken from me forever." 
    
    Fraser cocked his head.  "But she took you back." 
    
    "She took me over," admitted the Elder quietly.  "She drove me to insanity,
    just like she drove Ellery into making Kowalski a ghoulite." 
    
    "That's an ugly word, James." 
    
    Calhoun winced, as much at the quiet reprimand as at the use of his given
    name. 
    
    "I'll make a deal with you, Slayer.  I won't call him a ghoulite if you
    won't call me James.  My wife called me that." 
    
    "What shall I call you?" 
    
    "Calhoun.  When I was in the Mounties, they called me Cal.  Or Jamey."
    
    "All right.  Jamey."  He returned to the subject at hand. "Meeting Tom
    changed everything..." 
    
    "Yeah. It was like a hundred and twenty years later I finally came home.
    And with the...demon here..." He sighed. "I don't know what to do. I
    nearly killed them..." 
    
    "Jamey, you have to talk to Tom.  You saved his life.  You turned on
    Lilith for him.  You delivered his son.  He won't take that lightly."
    
    Calhoun sighed.  "Have you ever felt this way?" 
    
    "The day I met Ray.  My world had collapsed.  I rebuilt it around him."
    
    The Sabbat nodded thoughtfully and Fraser smiled inwardly.  Calhoun was
    a good man, now that he was allowed to be. 
    
    *** 
    
    "Know what I can't figure?" Vecchio asked, leaning against the vending
    machine Cecil was trying to get a pop from. Tom hated hospital drinks.
    Cecil remembered that. 
    
    "What's that?" 
    
    "Why he's not beating you upside the head with an empty gun." 
    
    "Maybe because he doesn't have one." 
    
    Vecchio grinned, "Funny guy. You raped him." 
    
    "I was a bit over zealous, yes. But that hardly..." Cecil started. 
    
    "You raped him." Vecchio affirmed. "You poisoned him. But he seems a
    bit happy to see you. Why?" 
    
    Cecil smiled. "Maybe because he realised about two days after I got a
    bit desperate, that what I'd done to him in no way compared to what my
    host had done to him for years. Maybe because he realised that when I
    took over as the Alderman, he stopped waking up wanting to die. Stopped
    having doors literally shoved in his face." He sighed. "I got a little
    gun happy once.  Nothing compared to three years of what Alex Vargas
    put him through." 
    
    "So...rape is okay," goaded the detective 
    
    "No, but I was frightened and panicked.  My family was going to kill
    me over him.  They were afraid of exactly what happened.  That's why
    Virgil tried to kill him.  They're all into racial purity.  Is there
    a point to this, Detective?" 
    
    "Yeah.  Consider it a background check for Tom Grissom." 
    
    "What do you mean?" 
    
    "I was updating my lieutenant the other day on everything that's been
    going on.  Welsh is a Watcher, so he's certified in all the weirdness
    that goes down in this burg.  He may have a proposition for psychic boy
    in there." 
    
    Cecil was gazing at him through mild blue eyes.  "What kind of proposition?"
    
    "Less than one percent of the Chicago P.D. was eligible for the 13th.
    Our psychic resources have been reduced to one non-psychic vampire prince
    that wants to dye his hair cobalt.  Tom was a cop once.  We need him.
    If nothing else, as a consultant." 
    
    "You would take him?  After everything that's happened?" 
    
    "If he can handle it and if he wants it, yeah.  I'm trying to find out
    for Welsh.  Part of the check is the stability of relationships." 
    
    "He...he seems to be involved with a - a vampire." 
    
    Vecchio smiled, amused at the demon's reaction to Calhoun.  "Ah.  So
    you met Jimmy." 
    
    "'Met' isn't the word I'd use.  I thought he was going to kill me." 
    
    "He probably was.  He'll eat just about anything.  Tried to off me once...twice..."
    
    "Not the type I'd expect Tom to be with." 
    
    "Guess you don't know him as well as you think, Cecil." 
    
    Vecchio looked up as Ray Kowalski, dressed in Fraser's RCMS sweats and
    sneakers, appeared in the hall.  His hands were bandaged, but he was
    otherwise better and planning his escape from bad food and hovering nurses
    that did nothing but try to get him to eat.  Spotting Vecchio, he walked
    over. 
    
    "Hey, Stan." 
    
    Kowalski ignored the name.  "If I sign myself out, think you can give
    me a lift home?" 
    
    "No.  I'll take you my house.  Welsh talked with the doctors.  You can't
    report for even light duty now until you pack on ten pounds.  And then
    you still owe Welsh another ten to get off light duty." 
    
    Ray groaned and banged his head on the soda machine.  "I won't get back
    for months." 
    
    "Not if Ma feeds you." 
    
    "What about my turtle?" 
    
    "Frannie's been feeding it.  C'mon. Dief's been there all week and it
    beats being alone in the apartment." 
    
    He sighed.  "'Kay."  He noticed Cecil and frowned a tiny bit in recognition.
    The demon became nervous.  "Have we met?" 
    
    "Um...I..." 
    
    "This is Cecil," offered Vecchio. 
    
    "Cecil?  THE Cecil?  Demon father of my dad Cecil?" 
    
    "Yeah." 
    
    "Demon father of your what?" Cecil stammered. 
    
    "Didn't I kill you four years ago?" he demanded of the blanching demon.
    
    Cecil hid his face behind his hands.  "It's a long story, Prince Kowalski."
    
    "Which you were about to relate to me," Vecchio stated firmly.  "Come
    on, let's go get some coffee." 
    
    "I've gotta drop this at Tom's room..." 
    
    "Yeah, an' tell him not to drink strychnine any more. Kinda cramps your
    lifestyle, y'know. C'mon." 
    
    *** 
    
    Someone was watching him sleep. Tom opened his eyes, rolling halfway
    over on the hospital bed. "Hey," he whispered to Calhoun, trying not
    to wake the baby still by his side. 
    
    "Hi. Sleep long? 
    
    "Just a few minutes. Are you ok?" 
    
    Calhoun shrugged, "I don't know." He sat on the edge of the bed, running
    a hand through Tom's hair. "That was /the/ Cecil?" 
    
    Tom nodded. "Just popped in to say hi. James, there's nothing there.
    Nothing going on, if that's what you were thinking." 
    
    "I wasn't." 
    
    Tom's eyes narrowed with teasing suspicion and his voice was sarcastic
    as he asked, "Really?" 
    
    "No." 
    
    *** 
    
    "We...he was in labor, really far into it." Cecil started telling his
    tale as they slowly made their way to Tom's room.  Kowalski could not
    move very fast yet and Vecchio wasn't even sure he should be up. 
    
    "I was trying to do the drawing spell, but I um..." He chuckled. "I read
    the wrong page." He ran his hand over his hair. "I read a Rite of Ressurection."
    
    "And?" 
    
    "And it um...Tom started screaming. Real loud. I figured it was 
    hurting him pretty bad, but then I started hurting." He paused, looking
    at the two detectives. "We brought back the Alderman. Shocked Tom right
    outta labor. Guy wasn't human any more, though. Enthos. And I wasn't
    quite Enthos any more, either." 
    
    "It was Vargas I killed?" Ray looked to the ceiling. 
    
    "Yeah. He um...knocked Tom out cold. Got me pretty good. I was in a coma
    for a long time. I guess Tom thought I was dead. Went after Vargas, but
    told you all he was me. I guess Virgil bought it too." 
    
    "Guess so," growled Kowalski, wondering if what Virgil had said to Fraser
    was a fit topic for conversation. 
    
    Cecil looked up. "Now. What's this about me being the demon dad to your
    dad?" 
    
    *** 
    
    Calhoun lay the baby in the hospital cradle across the room, then headed
    back to lay beside Tom. They'd been talking for a long time. He'd related
    almost everything he'd told the constable. Almost. 
    
    They lay face to face, noses nearly touching. Suddenly Tom opened his
    eyes a bit more. "I love you. You know that?" 
    
    Calhoun didn't say anything for a minute. "Yeah. I know." He leaned forward,
    pulling Tom into a kiss. "I love you too." His intent was unmistakeable.
    
    Near to blushing, his heart hammering with excitement at what he hoped
    was coming.  Still, he had to try.  Anyone could walk in on them. "We're
    in a hospital." 
    
    "Doesn't matter." He kissed Tom again, pulling him gently closer. Trying
    not to touch any of the bruises from last night or the week before. "You
    love me?" 
    
    "Always." 
    
    "You trust me?" 
    
    "Unconditionally." 
    
    "All right, then." His kisses trailed to Tom's neck, and he heard a sigh
    from Tom. Relief? Contentment? Did it matter? He pondered for a moment.
    "How quiet can you be?" 
    
    "Quiet as I need to be?" 
    
    "Ever done this with a vampire before? The non psychic way, I mean."
    
    "The vampire way, you mean." 
    
    "Right." 
    
    "No. Ever done this in a hospital?" 
    
    "No." 
    
    "Good. That'll give us something." 
    
    He could sense James' smile, feel his lips on his neck.  God, if this
    was anything like the psychic contact they's had...if James could do
    /that/ over the phone... 
    
    He twined his fingers in the vampire's black hair, a shuddering gasp
    of pure pleasure escaping his lips as he felt razor-sharp fangs pierce
    his neck.  It didn't hurt.  Not even when he knew the vampire was drinking
    of him.  It was thrilling to know that /Calhoun/ was doing this to him.
    God almighty, what he did, the feeling this contact conveyed... 
    
    *** 
    
    It was nothing like the time he had performed a letting on Kowalski.
    Then, he had done nothing but take and take with deliberate cruelty and
    an intention to kill.  Now...now he gave.  Of himself.  Of pleasure.
    A promise and pledge of a future together.  He heard Tom softly whisper,
    "Oh, my god, James!"  Not since Marianne had his name sounded so sweet.
    
    *** 
    
    "Where's his father?" Cecil suddenly asked. 
    
    "His father? How would I know where is father is?" Ray asked, confused.
    
    "You said he did an exorcism. He'd need his father for that." 
    
    "There was no one else...." 
    
    "The book. His father's in the book." 
    
    Ray blinked once. Twice. Then he shook his head and blinked again. "Excuse
    me?" 
    
    Cecil sighed. "About six years ago, his mom put his father, a Moloch
    demon, into the Necronomicon. She got a little pissy at him. I bought
    it from her, gave it to Tom. I didn't tell him it was his dad, of course."
    
    "Oh....of course." Vecchio shook his head. "Tom's a demon?" 
    
    "No. Well...sorta.  He um...he got all his dad's human genes. Except
    the psychic bit.  And the inability to have children with anyone who
    /isn't/ a demon. He got that too. But, he doesn't know about his dad
    being half moloch either. So keep hush." 
    
    "How could he not know?" 
    
    "It's hard to explain." 
    
    "Yeah, I bet." 
    
    *** 
    
    Kowalski listened with lessening enthusiasm.  He was feeling like crap
    again, but so desperate was he to get out of here he held his tongue
    and voiced no complaint.  Ma's was beginning to sound pretty good, too.
    He missed Dief, he missed his clan, hell, he actually missed Warfield
    the Eternally Grumpy.  He'd even put with the Stella at this point. 
    He wanted /out./ 
    
    They were almost at Tom's room when it hit.  Another friggin' flash.
    Goddamnit, he was tired of this.  Where the hell did these visions come
    from, anyway?  Why him?  Just because his ex wife was a vengeance demon.
    You pay and pay and pay... 
    
    He paused, leaning against the wall as Vecchio and Cecil entered Tom's
    room.  A book.  No, /the/ book.  Great grandpa, the leatherbound edition.
    It was screaming?  A book screaming?  How could that happen?  Was it
    alive after all?  Hands holding it.  A red coat.  Turnbull bent over
    the tome protectively, shielding it with his own body.  The new and undead
    Lilith, looking down from a great height at the Seeker, mocking him.
    Fraser beside him. 
    
    Fraser... 
    
    He'd had this flash before.  The steam-filled room.  His own reflection
    with blue eyes once again.  Fraser leaning in close.  Protectively, possessively,
    reaching up to turn his face and draw him close. But this had happened?
    Hadn't it? 
    
    Or was it a warning? 
    
    Gardino? 
    
    Vecchio's voice cut across his consciousness. 
    
    "Oh, shit." 
    
    *** 
    
    Even in the euphoria, Tom could recognize that something was wrong. What
    had started out feeling wonderful was starting to hurt. Was starting
    to really hurt. Part of him didn't care, part of him liked it. Loved
    it. Relished it. 
    
    After four years in hell, a little pain went a long way. 
    
    The rest of him was screaming, trying to get James' attention. Trying
    to stop him. What had started out as a simple round of sex, vampire style,
    had turned into something very deadly. 
    
    He felt his head tilt back, and stared at the baby through hazed vision.
    Teeth sank deeper and he gasped. Trembled as blood ran down his neck.
    He could hear the heart monitors slowing. 
    
    "J...James..." His voice shook, barely a whisper. 
    
    "Oh shit..." Vecchio muttered. Vecchio? When had he.... 
    
    Suddenly the baby was wailing, and James was pulling away like someone
    had lit a fire under him. Tom's arms flopped to his sides, blood running
    from the deep wound on his neck. 
    
    "What the hell is wrong with you?" Vecchi demanded, pulling Calhoun off
    the bed. 
    
    "Kowalski...he had..." Calhoun looked to the door. He was shaking. He
    could have killed Tom. Oh fuck. Oh God.  He fell to his knees, loathing
    himself and what he was.  What he had done.  The flash.  Kowalski...he
    hadn't killed Kowalski then, either.  Please... 
    
    Cecil went to Tom instantly, shaking hands going to the wound. Blood
    flowed quickly. "Get a doctor. Hurry." 
    
    *** 
    
    Fraser saw Ray sitting in the hallway and cocked his head with concern.
    He'd just gotten off the phone with Inspector Thatcher and had been on
    his way to see how things had gone with Tom and Cal, but this was slightly
    worrisome. "Ray?" He looked down at his lover, worried. 
    
    He was reeling, his words slurring. "Fraser? Sheesh got Tom's dad..."
    
    "What?" 
    
    "The book. It's 'is dad." Ray never thought he'd see that day he had
    Fraser confused. 
    
    "What book?" asked Fraser, sitting next to Ray and steadying him with
    one arm around his waist.  A thin trickle of blood slid down his face.
    It wasn't so bad this time, thank god. 
    
    Ray rambled on.  "That dead thing of Tom's.  It's 'is dad.  'is mom got
    pithed off and trapped him in a book." 
    
    "Ray?" 
    
    "Huh?" 
    
    "Why are you on the floor?" 
    
    "...flash...s'cold, izzen' it?  Sssleep." 
    
    Just then, Vecchio came out of the room at a run.  "Get a doctor!" he
    cried to the nurses at the station. 
    
    The baby was crying.  Was it Ray or Tom that Caine wept over? 
    
    Calhoun staggered out, clearly horrified.  There was a trace of blood
    on his lips. 
    
    "Jamey?" wondered Fraser.  "Are you alright?" 
    
    "No," whispered the vampire. "What happened?" He asked, quietly. He saw
    the blood, and thought he knew. Yes. Something similar to what had happened
    between him and Ray in Canada. Oh dear. 
    
    Calhoun shook his head, leaning his head back against the wall in anguish.
    
    *** 
    
    Cecil held the cloth to Tom's neck, trying to staunch the flow of blood.
    The smell was great, but not as over powering as the odd smell he kept
    sensing from his child. "Tom..." 
    
    "Mmm..." Tom kept trying to sit up, and failed. "Wh..." He could barely
    speak. Words came out in shocky stammers. 
    
    "Tom, hold this. Hold it tight." He put the cloth in Tom's hands, pressing
    it against Tom's neck. "Tight, ok?" 
    
    "'k..." 
    
    Cecil made his way to the small crib, and picked up the child. He gave
    it a sniff at the top of it's head. Curious. Another sniff, deeper inhale.
    An ancient smell. Not Enthos at all. 
    
    He looked to Tom, cradling the child. "What'd you do?" he whispered.
    
    *** 
    
    Ray flinched at the sound of glass breaking. He stood up with Fraser's
    help, making his way into the hospital room. The window was broken, shattered.
    And Cecil was gone. 
    
    A look to the crib told him that the baby was too. 
    
    Calhoun stared, shocked. "Oh my God..." 
    
    Ray whirled, pointing imperiously at Calhoun.  "Sabbat!  After him! 
    Now!  Get my father back!" 
    
    His energy renewed by fury, Calhoun went from a creature that looked
    mostly human to something out of a nightmare.  His Gangrel heritage and
    Sabbat blood ripped a vicious hiss from his throat that surprised even
    the Knight and the Slayer.  Even at his worst, they had never seen Calhoun
    so violently aroused.  Tom's eyes grew huge, but it was more with hope
    than fear. 
    
    Calhoun gave him one swift look, as if in silent promise to his lover,
    then went to the window, sniffing and testing the air.  Something caught
    his attention and held it, and suddenly the vampire climbed out the window.
    Tom gasped in alarm.  Ray went to the window, cooly watching the Sabbat
    climb down the sheer face of the hospital wall. 
    
    Vecchio burst back into the room, took in the scene and held his head
    in pain.  "Now what the hell is going on?" 
    
    "It would seem...it would seem that someone's taken Adam." 
    
    Then the doctors rushed in and they were exiled to the hall for the better
    part of an hour.  When they were finally let back in, Tom was sitting
    up and poking at the bandage on his neck. 
    
    Ray glared at the empty crib, accusingly. "Cecil. The son of a bitch
    took Aja." He looked to Tom. "Did he say why?" 
    
    Tom shook his head, though he had some idea. "He was smelling him. I
    think...I think he could smell Caine on him." He took away the cloth.
    The bleeding had stopped. He was a little woozy, but none the worse for
    wear. More shocked than anything else.  "I need to check out." 
    
    "Excuse me?" Vecchio demanded. He shook his head. "No. No way." 
    
    Tom looked annoyed. "I wasn't aware you were channelling my parents,
    Detective. I'm checking out. I know where he'll go. Where he'll take
    Adam." 
    
    "Where?" 
    
    "I need to go to my car." 
    
    *** 
    
    Cecil held the baby close, not even sure that this was still his child.
    The smell was all wrong. Not demon at all. Vampiric. What had Tom done?
    He drove one of Zuko's cars towards the his own home. Not exactly sure
    what he was going to do, he slammed on the brakes when the girl stepped
    in front of his car. 
    
    Shakily, he watched as she came towards him. She was not one to be trifled
    with. Human, but he could smell the ancient on her. She was like the
    baby. And she could tell he wasn't what he appeared to be... 
    
    "Cecil...brother to Virgil..." She tilted her head, leaning into the
    window. "Well now. This is a surprise." 
    
    *** 
    
    Calhoun sniffed the air, he could smell Cecil but that wasn't what he
    was tracking. He was tracking the baby. The baby's smell was so much
    more potent. He could find them easily, if only... 
    
    A second smell and he paled. Lilith. Oh no... 
    
    *** 
    
    It had taken a lot of effort to get Tom out of the hospital. The doctors
    had made him sign so many forms he thought they'd been stalling. But
    then they'd made their break. 
    
    Ray parked as close as he could to the Gremlin without worry that it's
    almost demonic oddness would infect the GTO and followed Tom to the trunk
    of the car. He watched in surprise as Tom popped the trunk open. 
    
    The thing was /filled/, literally filled with weaponry. Twinki Guns and
    Twinki Rifles, stakes, stake harpoons, holy water pistols. You name it,
    it was there. He gapes as Tom picked up a rather twisted looking gun
    and a pair of goggles. 
    
    At Ray's look of confusion, he said "Windows to the soul, the eyes."
    
    "What the hell, this thing the Armageddon Mobile?  Jesus, where'd ya
    get the arsenal, Grissom?" 
    
    "Courtesy of the Baltimore Police Department.  They didn't know how to
    use any of these things the right way." He smirked. "So I snagged it."
    
    "Feel like a kid at Christmas."  Ray lifted a harpoon.  "Haven't used
    one of these since the academy." 
    
    "You concentrate on the undead, Ray.  I'll take care of Cecil.  Fraser?"
    
    The Mounted Slayer shook his head.  "I can't carry a stake or conventional
    gun in the United States, Tom." 
    
    Vecchio, the healthiest and best-dressed commando on the team looked
    at the Canadian. "Turnbull carries a water gun, Benny.  That's legal."
    
    "I'll take two, please, Tom." 
    
    *** 
    
    He kept down wind of them, losing sight of them on occasion but never
    losing the scent.  Lilith had entered the car and Cecil drove erratically
    through the afternoon rush hour traffic and he kept to the shadows. 
    He could hear his liege crying, never stopped to ponder the strangeness
    of his fate that left him serving a child and a still-human prince. 
    He existed now to obey his prince's last command - to save the child.
    He would do so or destroy himself in the trying. 
    
    They stopped moving in a run-down part of Chicago he remembered hunting
    in once.  Not the nicest neighborhood.  Calhoun could hear Lilith ordering
    the protesting Cecil out of the car.  She was carrying Caine now, and
    the one-time enthos demon was pleading for his son's safe return.  He
    closed his eyes, his mind.  He could hear their heart beats.  Three heart
    beats.  Lilitu was not yet undead... 
    
    "You can have him," mocked the queen.  Calhoun barely registered the
    change in her voice.  "When I'm done, you can keep whatever's left."
    
    "Where - where are you taking him?" begged Cecil.  Calhoun, not daring
    to reveal himself, could hear the genuine terror in his voice. 
    
    "Away, Cecil.  I'm taking him away from you.  Now run along.  Go tell
    your new boss Warfield that /I/ have his lord." 
    
    "Who-who are you?  How do you know all this?" 
    
    She laughed.  "Don't you remember me, Cecil?" 
    
    Something hit the dirt.  Calhoun figured it had to be Cecil.  The demon
    had figured out the truth.  Calhoun could smell the panic in his sweat.
    
    "N-No!" he cried.  "No!  My lady!  Please!  He's just a child!  My child!"
    
    "By a human.  You've corrupted the House of Noor, Cecil.  I'm doing you
    a favor taking the little whelp.  I promise I won't tell Mortimer and
    Wilma on you." 
    
    Something heavy and metal was moved, then gradually the scent of Lord
    Caine faded a bit.  Calhoun raised his head and looked up at the weedy
    lot between two rows of houses.  She had gone underground somehow. 
    
    Well, two could play at that game.  He knew her body had more limits
    as a living being still, and he fully intended to exploit this advantage.
    He edged foreward, Cecil forgotten as the scent grew stronger, until
    he saw man hole cover.  Lilith had entered the sewers. 
    
    Cecil looked up as Calhoun pried the cover free, taking pains not to
    make any noise.  A squeak escaped him as he recognized the vampire elder.
    The Sabbat looked rabid.  Crazed.  Furious. 
    
    "I'm sorry," he gasped.  "I'm sorry, I never meant-" 
    
    "Shut up," hissed Calhoun dangerously.  "I know exactly what your intent
    was.  Thanks to your selfishness, my lord, my prince, my friends, and
    my lover are endangered by the Dark Mother.  Go and warn them where I'm
    going, you worm." 
    
    "They'll kill me!" Cecil had no doubt about that. And he had a feeling
    Tom would be the one first in line. 
    
    "If they don't, I will," the vampire promised, climbing down the ladder
    in that lead to the sewers below. 
    
    Cecil hesitated for several long moments.  He had only intended to shower
    the child with love.  Give it a home.  Tom had a child already.  He could
    only assume that there were many negative feelings from his one-time
    lover towards him and resentment towards what Vecchio had correctly categorized
    as rape.  He'd just been so damned scared Tom would say, "No," and his
    dreams of a family with the police officer would be shattered.  So, he
    had forced him.  And now he had kidnapped his own child and let him fall
    into deadly danger. 
    
    The almost-human climbed to his feet and hurried to the man hole.  He
    could not see very well, and his sense of smell was assailed by the stench
    of rotting waste.  Steeling himself, Cecil climbed down into the sewer.
    To his right was a smaller pipe set in a wall.  Forced to go left, he
    set out through the filthy water to find his son. 
    
    He managed to get several paces before he was grabbed from behind and
    his mouth covered as he tried to scream. "Shut up!" Calhoun hissed. "God,
    don't you /ever/ pay attention?" Calhoun grabbed his cell phone, pissed
    beyond words. He dialed, rapidly. 
    
    "Kowalski." 
    
    "He gave him to Lilith." He heard Ray's sharp intake of breath. "I wouldn't
    tell Tom that." 
    
    "No." 
    
    Cecil struggled, and Calhoun kneed him in the shin. "We're in the sewers.
    Off Lattimer." 
    
    "We're on our way." 
    
    Calhoun tightened his grip on Cecil. "Can I strangle him?" 
    
    "Who?" 
    
    "Cecil." 
    
    He could practically hear Fraser glaring at Kowalski. "Better not. WE
    might need him later." 
    
    *** 
    
    Tom loaded the mirror smasher with reflective pellets as they waited
    for Fraser to fetch Diefenbaker and Turnbull. He was shuffling his feet,
    anxiously. He knew that Calhoun would get Adam back. He had to. 
    
    But if he didn't, he'd kill Cecil. 
    
    James might just kill him anyway. 
    
    Ray adjusted his goggles, annoyed that they cut into his face. "How come
    we gotta wear these, but you don't?" 
    
    "Because. Don't argue with your grandparents," Tom half heartedly teased.
    
    *** 
    
    Lilith cradled the baby almost tenderly. Rats parted path for her as
    she walked through the sewer. They were afraid of her. And with good
    reason. 
    
    She came to the inner sanctum deep in the sewers and went inside. Beyond
    it's doors sat the remaining Bahari, competing for the right to be the
    one who brought the dark mother across. 
    
    She smiled. This would be glorious. 
    
    *** 
    
    Calhoun crouched on the ledge above the rushing water below, watching
    the door Lilith had vanished into just moments ago.  He could sense the
    Bahari, a dozen at the most, the remnants of what had escaped his Sabbat.
    He could hear their whispered voices.  They were young compared to him.
    Good.  They would be used to things a certain way, never expecting a
    rogue like him to enter into the calculation. 
    
    Beside him, Cecil tried to keep still as a stone and breath quietly,
    trying to avoid the vampire's wrath.  He knew he wouldn't escape it forever,
    but if he could save the baby before his stay of execution... 
    
    The door opened.  Two of the Bahari exited.  Two females.  Intent on
    their errand, not the walls and pipes around them.  Calhoun rose, his
    motions fluid and graceful as an animal on the hunt.  One glaring look
    kept Cecil in his spot as Calhoun went to shift the odds a bit. 
    
    Cecil sat with is hands over his ears, waiting for screams or fighting.
    Nothing.  Voices talking, then a soft splash.  Silence, then another
    splash.  Then nothing again. 
    
    He almost screamed when he saw Calhoun's pale eyes staring at him from
    the darkness.  The vampire had hunted, but he was hungry still and the
    demon quaked in terror that he would be next. 
    
    "I have to get in there," stated Calhoun softly.  "You're going to help."
    
    "I-I-I-" 
    
    "Shut up." 
    
    *** 
    
    "I know why he took Adam." 
    
    Vecchio looked up from the manual on the mirror smasher.  A combination
    of curiosity and boredom had driven him to it.  Not a nice weapon for
    the demon on the receiving end, that was a certainty. 
    
    Kowalski was prowling about.  He'd removed the bandages from his frostbitten
    hands and now the skin on them was pink and raw like a burn.  Vecchio
    frowned but left the lectures to Fraser. 
    
    "Why?" demanded Stan.  He looked silly with the goggles on, but it was
    these or his glasses. 
    
    "His parents, Mortimer and Wilma.  They've been pressuring both their
    sons into having families." 
    
    "Guess Virgil's out of the running," commented Kowalski to Vecchio. 
    "According to Fraser, there wasn't even dust left by the time Lilith
    got done with him." 
    
    Tom ignored that. "Wilma especially.  She was obsessed with the Noor
    bloodline staying pure.  Unfortunately, in his present condition, Cecil
    can't reproduce with a demon, only a hybrid." 
    
    "Like you," finished Vecchio. 
    
    "Same is true of me," admitted Tom, wondering how Vecchio had figured
    out that he was partially of demonic stock.  He knew that one of his
    parents, or maybe a grandparent had been a demon but he'd never been
    able to ascertain who or what kind. 
    
    "Guess that kinda sucks then. With yer dad being a Moloch and trapped
    in a book and all." Ray adjusted the harpoon gun and looked at Tom. The
    look of shock on Tom's face was startling. "What?" 
    
    "My father...." 
    
    Ray closed his eyes. "You didn't know." 
    
    "No. A book?" 
    
    "Yer book. Y'known, that dead thing book." 
    
    Tom nodded. Well. That explained some things. "Oh." 
    
    Just then, Diefenbaker came running up to the Gremlin clutching a Stetson.
    He dove behind Ray, tail wagging with mischievous delight as Turnbull
    appeared at the end of the block in hot pursuit. 
    
    "Duck and cover," advised Kowalski, grinning. 
    
    *** 
    
    With a final nervous glance to where Calhoun was glaring at him from
    the ledge, Cecil stood poised to knock on the door.  Before his knuckles
    touched metal it was flung open. Lilith stood there glaring. "You followed
    me." 
    
    "I want my baby," he insisted with all the courage he could muster. She
    yanked him into the room angerly as Calhoun watched. He doubted that
    the demon could pull off this distraction. He seemed incompetent. To
    say the least. 
    
    Suddenly he heard shouting and the door flung wide again, giving purchase
    to the demon. He ran past Calhoun's hiding place, clutching the copy
    of the Necronomicon tightly to his chest. The Bahari were close behind
    him, shouting at the demonic thief, a devil dog right on their heels.
    Well, except for the dog, if the little twit could get outside, he'd
    be okay.  Just to even the score a bit Calhoun lashed out.  Quicker than
    thought, his claws caught the last Bahari in the line and before she
    had a chance to understand what was happening, she was rendered limb
    from limb by the Sabbat. 
    
    It took almost no time to destroy her, right here on Lilith's doorstep.
    There were two left inside besides the Mother and Caine.  Calhoun knew
    they'd detect him instantly, but he wasn't worried about that.  All he
    knew was that he had to save the child.  Nothing else mattered in the
    world. 
    
    He slid inside the metal door.  There was a short hallway into a wider
    chamber with a vaulted ceiling.  Torches and candles provided uneven
    light and filled the reeking air with smoke.  He could hear Caine crying
    still.  Good.  Still alive.  Two heart beats.  Why weren't they attacking
    him?  They were... 
    
    Calhoun's eyes narrowed as he focused on the three female occupants of
    the room.  They were...feeding.  Off of Lilith.  She was becoming undead.
    He had no time, no time!  Unless...the fire.  They were as vulnerable
    to fire as he was, and if they drained the body Lilith inhabited now,
    she would be doubly vulnerable and helpless before the conflagration.
    
    The room was carpeted and richly furnished, heavy drapes adorning the
    walls all the way up to the ceiling.  Clearly this was a Bahari coven.
    He huffed to himself.  They had worse taste than Warfield.  He lifted
    a torch from a bracket in the wall.  Time to bring down the house. 
    
    *** 
    
    Cecil ran, panting, down the streets, around kiosks, across empty lots,
    through a park and a pond, dodging traffic and pedestrians and all the
    countless objects that barred his way as he high-tailed for the only
    place he knew he might be safe in all of Chicago. 
    
    He was wrong. 
    
    He'd lost the Bahari.  They hadn't made it past the man-hole. The devil
    dog would not be shaken, nipping at his heels with damnable determination.
    Cecil twisted and dodged down his own street, back to the shelter of
    his...home? 
    
    The Noor Enclave. The home roost. 
    
    A group of four familiar men stood around a car. His car. His old Gremlin.
    Tom. The Slayers.  Prince Kowalski. He grinned happily, too overjoyed
    to remember just now that his head was wanted on a platter by all four
    men. 
    
    That they'd probably come to kill him. 
    
    He nearly ran Tom down, falling to his knees with the exertion. "Tom....I...oof!"
    
    The devil dog pounced, growling savagely and putting up a marvelous fight
    for all it was the size of a runty dachshund.  Dief looked on in delight,
    looking as if he wanted to lend his brethren a hand until Fraser stepped
    foreward and plucked the annoying beast off of Cecil's back.  His clothes
    were shredded. 
    
    Diefenbaker looked longingly at his human.  Fraser capitulated, handing
    the devil dog over to the werewolf.  "Oh. Alright.  But when we have
    to go I don't want to hear a word." 
    
    Relieved, Cecil tried to catch his breath 
    
    He looked up. And into a mirror smasher. "Tom." 
    
    "Where's my baby, Cecil?" Tom's tone was threatening. And Cecil couldn't
    help but notice that everyone else was wearing goggles. But Tom. 
    
    Except Tom. 
    
    He meant it with the mirror smasher. 
    
    "He's my baby, too, Tom!" pleaded Cecil, wishing that gun was aimed anywhere
    else than at him.  Maybe one of his neighbors would call the police...?
    Oh, no, they were already here and definitely not on his side.  "I just
    wanted to keep him safe." 
    
    "Oh, yeah, real fabulous job, Cec," snorted Kowalski. "Talk about yer
    deadbeat dads..." 
    
    "Ray," Fraser and Tom said together.  Kowalski backed down. 
    
    "Where is Adam, Cecil?  I want to know /now/." Tom's voice was cold.
    Full of ire. 
    
    "In the sewers off Lattimer.  I'm not sure if I could find her hiding
    place again.  He followed their scent. Calhoun killed some of the vampires....well,
    made them more dead than undead.  I didn't look." He shuddered. If he
    had looked, he was sure he'd have been ill. 
    
    "You took my book," stated Tom coldly. 
    
    "Calhoun told me I had to distract them.  I knew you'd want hi-it back."
    
    "My father, you mean." 
    
    "Er...yes," he said, casting a desperate look at the Knights and the
    Slayers.  The werewolf was running around playing with the devil dog.
    He had no allies here. 
    
    Tom's dark eyes narrowed and Cecil was reminded of the vampire he had
    left behind in the sewers, fearlessly taking on Bloody Mary herself.
    They were perfect for each other now. Tom was no longer the odd little
    human he'd chosen. Maybe he never had been. 
    
    "You /bought/ my father the day my mother enslaved him.  You never told
    me or tried to help him.  What kind of monster are you?" 
    
    He was panicking.  Kowalski held Fraser back with one hand on his arm.
    
    "One that loves you?" he tried lamely. 
    
    "Love?" echoed Tom Grissom.  "Love?  Loved me enough to poison and rape
    me?  Then to kidnap the child I carried for four years? That's /love/?
    That's twisted, Cecil!" 
    
    /Uh-oh./  Cecil knew this was it.  The proverbial moment of truth.  He
    had one chance.  There was no telling what the mirror smasher would do
    to him.  It was different for every demon, turning their powers back
    upon them.  Tom was his only hope.  He couldn't fill any of the other
    men with his essence with the goggles on. 
    
    "Tom," he begged, trying to look pathetic.  He was remarkably successful.
    He raised watery blue eyes to Tom's face, those brown eyes. The almost
    psychotic gleam of a father looking for a missing child. 
    
    Their gazes locked. 
    
    "I do love you, Tom," said Cecil, trying to ease the pain of transition.
    
    Tom Grissom smiled.  "Ain't that a shame," he replied as he pulled the
    trigger.  Tom's smile quickly faded when the blast pulsed over Cecil
    and then shot back at him. He was thrown three feet, landing on his back.
    He heard a shout and stared blankly at the night sky. 
    
    "Ouch...." 
    
    He could see out of the corner of his eye that the book had flown open.
    He couldn't tell what page.... 
    
    Then the burning started. A familiar sensation. "No..." His back arched,
    head tossing from side to side. "No...no...please..." 
    
    Ray felt dizzy as the book opened. He could see the Wyrm again, staring
    at him. Dripping ooze. But it looked younger somehow and it had wings.
    
    And Tom. Tom lying on a stone slab, looking for all the world like he
    was dead. But he wasn't. He could tell that. 
    
    Fraser, in the snow, the sky filled with stars, looking up as a shadow
    fell across him.  Facing evil incarnate without the least trace of fear.
    
    With a sigh, he came out of the vision,  feeling Fraser's arms around
    him and Diefenbaker's weight and warmth against his side . 
    
    "Ray? Are you all right?" Fraser looked to Vecchio, who was kicking the
    book shut with an averted gaze. Turnbull was checking on Tom, who looked
    worse for wear. "Are you ok?" 
    
    "F-frayz...rrr..."  He looked up into the Mountie's blue eyes, felt Fraser
    smooth his hair.  Dief whined, sniffing at his neck and ear.  It tickled
    and Ray was sure the werewolf was doing it on purpose. 
    
    "Is this a flash, Ray?" 
    
    "Nnn-nnn.  Book."  He pressed closer to the Mountie, never wanting to
    let go.  The look of sheer determination on his face as the shadow falls
    across the snow...When?  When?  That was a flash.  How did the book know
    about that image? 
    
    "The book?" wondered Fraser.  The Necronomicon was doing this?  Or was
    it Tom's father? 
    
    "Book...Frayz....don'go...." 
    
    "I'm not going anywhere, Ray." He held Ray, tighter. Tried to bring him
    around. "It's ok." 
    
    *** 
    
    Calhoun stood, about to light the curtain when he felt Kowalski's flash
    hit him. His body went lax, the torch falling.  Damn it, why now?  It
    didn't feel like the other times.  He thought he felt arms catch him.
    
    He was right. He came around on a table. His legs and arms chained to
    it. The baby was nearby, he could smell it. He twisted his head from
    side to side like a panicked animal, trying to see Lilith. This was her
    doing. 
    
    He found her. Pale as a newborn get, she stood beside the hearth, trying
    to warm herself. Cruelly, she smiled at him then came towards him. 
    
    "James." 
    
    He felt her hand brush through his hair and tried to twist away. 
    
    "You don't love me any more?  Tch.  I made the most wonderful discovery.
    That baby?  It's Caine.  Trapped in a demon baby.  Isn't that just too
    simple?  He's helpless and mine right now.  You wouldn't know anything
    about that, would you?" 
    
    She laughed, leaning close.  "I'm trying to decide if I should make him
    undead.  Keep him a baby forever.  He's awfully cute this way." 
    
    Calhoun said nothing.  He had to escape her.  He did not dare let her
    make the baby a vampire.  Two lives he cherished would be destroyed.
    
    "Then there's you.  A Sabbat elder with a clan in hiding that's loyal
    to the man you tried to kill.  You were jealous of him once, remember?
    And what about my three Bahari that did not return?" 
    
    Lilith whispered right in his ear.  "I'd give you to them for a letting,
    but you'd poison them all.  Guess that leaves you and me, James." 
    
    He heard only one heart beat.  Fast and strong.  Caine lived yet.  There
    was hope. 
    
    *** 
    
    They left Cecil in a sobbing heap by his roost, none of them really caring
    what the demon did so long as he didn't interfere with them.  That he
    was in pain bothered them not at all - by his description of the pain,
    Tom and Fraser amd Ray had a pretty good idea of what had transpired
    when Cecil had tried to transfer his essence to Tom.  In a word, he was
    pregnant.  By himself.  At least Wilma and Mortimer would get the grandchild
    they'd been pestering him for. 
    
    Tom, meanwhile, had a twisting in his gut the likes of which he had never
    felt before.  Yes, a demon had entered him, just as Cecil and Anastasia
    had before, but this was...stronger.  No enthos or empath demon had fathered
    this child, if child it was.  This was...it /felt/ evil.  Kowalski was
    going on about the Wyrm.  He'd seen it before through the book.  Could
    it be...? 
    
    There were more important things to think of right now.  The sun was
    going down and they had to get to Lattimer St.  He threw the mirror smasher
    into the trunk of the Gremlin and pulled out a gun that he loaded with
    silver bullets. 
    
    "Are you licensed to carry?" wondered Vecchio, taking another box of
    ammunition for himself. 
    
    "Nope," responded Tom, not even looking up from his task. 
    
    "Just wondering." 
    
    Fraser picked up a rather large Twinki rifle and inspected the barrel.
    It had been fired recently enough that there was a smell of discharged
    powder still clinging to the sooty rifling. When it had been discharged,
    he couldn't tell. He looked up, eyes meeting Tom's. Tom was the first
    to look away. He nodded. They'd have to have a talk later. 
    
    Ray caught the glance, and scooped the devil dog into the car. Dief look
    unhappy. "Ok, demon doggie. This is your kingdom for the next couple
    hours. Yer in charge. Keep watch." 
    
    The devil dog barked savagely against the Gremlin's windows as they made
    their way to Lattimer. 
    
    *** 
    
    Calhoun tugged at the chains restraining him, watching Lilith with the
    baby. He felt the urge of frenzy come over him again and bit back a snarl.
    Caine was crying.  The sound burned in him.  Just a helpless infant.
    Calhoun worked harder on the chains, ignoring the shackles that bit into
    his wrists and sliced open his hands.  Nothing mattered but getting free.
    He strained, all his strength channelled into his right arm.  It moved
    a fraction.  Either his arm was breaking or the chair was. 
    
    She didn't notice, too caught up in her taunting of a small child. Damn
    her.  Calhoun knew his wrist was shredded almost to the bone, but - yes!
    The chain gave way.  His arm was free. 
    
    A sound reached her ears.  Lilith looked up from her teasing and looked
    at the Bahari.  She nodded once and the eleven remaining women rushed
    silently out the door towards the sewers. 
    
    *** 
    
    He could feel the thing growing steadily in him, second by second. Felt
    hunger that he'd never felt before. Hunger for...something. Not raw meat,
    not anything he'd ever hungered for before. He wanted something live.
    Something rodent.  It disturbed him that he wasn't revolted as he knew
    he should be. 
    
    His stomach churned, but he pressed on in the sewer, letting Ray lead
    the way. When he was sure they weren't looking, he scooped up a rat.
    
    Ray Vecchio blinked at a crunching sound coming from behind him.  Like
    someone was eating a piece of celery.  He glanced back, knowing only
    Tom was behind him and seriously doubting the psychic had brought along
    a snack. 
    
    Was that a....tail? 
    
    It was hard to tell in the poor light.  Tom just looked at him curiously
    so Ray finally directed his attention to wading through the revolting
    water and...body parts? 
    
    Stan let out a strangled sound cut short by his own hands over his mouth
    as he whirled away from the dismembered bodies of two women.  Or was
    it three?  Fraser held him, turning him away from the gorey sight as
    the Seeker examined the rotting bodies, flashlight in hand. 
    
    "Bahari," he stated.  "Between fifteen and thirty years old.  Looks like
    Calhoun is nearby." 
    
    "And pissed," added Vecchio appriciatively.  What kind of strength did
    it take to do this to a body? 
    
    Diefenbaker suddenly growled, dropping to all fours as he turned to a
    wolf.  They all turned, instinct telling them they were no longer alone
    in the tunnel. 
    
    Almost on cue, the three with guns raised them at the Bahari glaring
    at them from the upper ledge. A snarl, and they leaped onto the floor
    nearest Ray. They were ready for a fight. And when they saw the bodies
    of their brethren, they were looking for blood. 
    
    *** 
    
    Calhoun heard sounds of a fight breaking out. He recognized the smells.
    Prince Kowalski. The Slayer. The Seeker. Tom. The Knight. The wolf. 
    
    And something evil. 
    
    Something horribly evil that moved with them. 
    
    His leverage regained, Calhoun reached over and twisted the chain off
    the manacles on his left wrist, cutting his fingers as he went, then
    he freed his legs. 
    
    She looked up from where Caine lay silently enduring her childish taunting
    and she saw him. 
    
    Autarkis.  Sabbat.  Betrayer. 
    
    He glared at Lilith, suddenly growling and leaping towards her despite
    the pain in his arms and legs. She cried out in shock, weakened from
    her recent letting. She was not ready to fight someone such as him. If
    she even tried, she'd die. She was sure of it. This body was not yet
    equal to the Sabbat's. 
    
    She darted out of his range, towards the wall.  Behind the drapes, she
    knew was another hall that lead deep into the sewer system, all the way
    to an underground river flowing to Lake Michigan. 
    
    All she had to do was survive long enough to find it. 
    
    *** 
    
    Flashing guns and inhuman screams echoed down the drain as the Bahari
    fought to protect their queen.  It was eerie, the near darkness, the
    knee-deep water, bursts of fire and raised voices... 
    
    Fraser and Turnbull let the two detectives and Tom spearhead the defense,
    knowing that if they weren't careful they could end up shot.  The weird
    report of the harpoon gun and an anguished howl told them Ray had taken
    out his target and Diefenbaker had already accounted for two.  These
    vampires here were not the fighters the Gangrel had been, and to the
    surprise of the men, the fight did not last very long. 
    
    Four were left, all frightened, ready to go out fighting.  There was
    a pause as the two sides sized each other up, and above the sound of
    water and heavy breathing, they heard a baby wail. 
    
    "Tom?" wondered Fraser. 
    
    The psychic was gone. 
    
    *** 
    
    Tom felt an aching churning in his stomach as the others fought the Bahari.
    He heard the fight in the next room and ran towards the sound of his
    son's voice, his heart aching in his chest.  The room seemed empty at
    first, but he knew Calhoun was hunting Lilith. And he knew she was afraid.
    
    He went to his baby, lifting him. 
    
    And Adam started to cry anew. 
    
    Suddenly there came a crash and a hiss of pain from James.  Tom whirled,
    wide-eyed as his lover came rushing directly at him - 
    
    "NO!" 
    
    Tom's hands were empty.  He looked up as Lilith, grinning manically,
    held Adam in her arms.  Calhoun stopped dead in his tracks, his pale
    eyes fixed on his one-time queen and his new lord. 
    
    "Well, James," she gloated. 
    
    "No!" cried Tom, resisting the instinct to reach for his child.  "Oh,
    god, don't hurt him!" 
    
    A noise from the tunnel, and Kowalski emerged into the candle-lit room.
    Behind him, Diefenbaker was rending the remaining vampires limb from
    limb and Fraser has chased Ray away before he freaked to the point of
    being useless.  Taking in the scene before him, he preferred the fight
    in the drain. 
    
    "Why not?" wondered Lilith.  "What will you give me for him?" 
    
    "Anything." 
    
    She smiled.  "Give me Prince Kowalski, then." 
    
    Tom glanced over his shoulder, seeing Ray.  Calhoun answered, his voice
    soft and dangerous, "He's not for the giving or taking any more." 
    
    "Well, I certainly don't have use for a traitor or a whore.  Guess I
    keep the little bundle of joy." 
    
    Ray spoke from across the room.  "I have something you want." 
    
    "You'll give me the Mounted Slayer?" 
    
    "Nope.  Better." 
    
    "What?" 
    
    "You walk out of here.  Leave us the kid, you don't get ripped to shreds."
    
    She cocked her head, pretending to think.  "Tempting, Prince Kowalski,
    but no thanks." 
    
    She backed away, keeping all of them in her sights and her hand poised
    over the dark-haired infant. 
    
    "No!" breathed Tom, weeping, his world shattering anew. 
    
    Lilith whirled, vanishing. 
    
    Calhoun rushed up to the door she had taken, Tom right beside him.  He
    had to fight to keep the human back. 
    
    "Prince Kowalski!" 
    
    Ray was there, restraining the hysterical Grissom.  He looked to the
    Vampire elder.  Calhoun was a mess, exhausted, bloodied, in pain, and
    the only one capable of saving Caine. 
    
    "Get him back," ordered Kowalski. 
    
    Calhoun didn't even hesitate to nod. He plunged down into the hallway.
    He could hear water.  A torrent of water so loud he couldn't hear anything
    but a roar.  An underground river. He had no idea it had been here. 
    
    God, he hated water. 
    
    She stood on the brink of a ledge above the riot of water.  She turned,
    her eyes glowing with vicious pleasure as she held the baby Tom alone
    called Adam at arm's length over the river. 
    
    "Who will it be, James, him or me?" 
    
    He ran faster.  "Both!" 
    
    She let go. 
    
    He dove off the ledge, seizing her arm as he went, dragging her down
    into the blackness with them as he strained his ears for any sign of
    a heart beat.  He hit the water hard, lost his grip on her, let the water
    sweep him along as he listened, straining, searching, begging god for...
    
    A heart beat. 
    
    *** 
    
    Hours passed.  They were freezing and stank of sewage and old blood and
    they were hungry and wanted to sleep but couldn't.  Tom had collapsed
    by the door Calhoun had vanished down.  Turnbull and Fraser had explored
    it with Dief, reporting that there was no other route and it terminated
    at the river.  They wanted to stay and wait, but there was no hope. 
    If Calhoun and Caine had fallen in the river, if by some miracle they
    didn't drown, there was no way to tell where the waters finally came
    to light. 
    
    Fraser was pale, the strychnine he had consumed a few days before keeping
    him weak and his stomach cramped.  Tom could not have been much better
    off.  Finally, at Vecchio's urging, Kowalski persuaded Tom to come with
    them.  The psychic moved in a daze, convinced he would never see his
    child or his lover again. It was unpleasant going, through the carnage
    of the undead, and when finally they emerged in the lot again, it was
    dawn. 
    
    "Where to?" asked Vecchio. 
    
    Kowalski thought for a moment.  "Warfield's." 
    
    Three cabs refused to take them, armed and smelly as they were, until
    Ray threatened to do a spot inspection of the next two.  They arrived
    at Warfield's and were greeted with little enthusiasm and less appreciation.
    Warfield, however, gave orders and in short order all of them, including
    Dief, were scrubbed clean and dressed in fresh clothes. 
    
    Throughout it all, Tom never spoke and they didn't know what to say to
    him. He held his daughter tightly, as if he were afraid to lose her again.
    Afraid to lose anything. But he wouldn't speak. He refused. 
    
    It was nine in the morning when the commotion started.  The Giovanni
    were up in arms. 
    
    "What?" demanded Vecchio as Marco, stuck alongside Turnbull as always,
    paced anxiously. 
    
    "A Sabbat.  A Sabbat in our territory!" 
    
    "Let him in!" ordered Kowalski.  "Where's Warfield?  Let him in, damn
    it, he's ours!  Move it, Marco!" 
    
    *** 
    
    Nothing, no one barred his way.  Surprising.  They couldn't miss him.
    Gangrel.  Autarkis.  Sabbat.  Despised.  Except for... 
    
    He knew they'd come here.  To Warfield's.  Waiting for him.  Was Thomas
    there?  Please. 
    
    He dragged himself up the steps, the weight of the water in his lungs
    slowing him more than his exhaustion.  He had walked all the way from
    the waterfront.  TNow they let him come in.  The Giovanni clan with their
    roses and their traditions.  God, he hurt.  He knew half his ribs were
    broken.  Probably his skull, too, and his left foot.  No matter.  Nothing
    mattered. 
    
    No one touched him.  They opened the doors and let him go by until he
    was in a large room that echoed.  He couldn't see how big it was.  His
    vision was blurred.  But he saw Tom.  And the Slayers. Cass.  Warfield.
    The Knight.  His Prince. 
    
    He ignored Tom's looks, his gasp of horror.  He made his way to Kowalski,
    the prince that had commanded him to save the child.  He had obeyed.
    
    Stiffly, he bent down on one knee and leaned foreward to place the object
    he'd been cradling in his arms at the prince's feet.  Lord Caine let
    out a wail at the loss of contact with his savior.  A rush of relief
    swept through the chamber, and Kowalski gaped with awe.  Even Warfield
    reacted. 
    
    He tried to rise.  Thought he did.  Suddenly the world slid to the side,
    voices cried out, and he collapsed in darkness. 
    
    He came to in the back of a car, lying with his head on Tom's knees.
    "Tom?" His voice was waterlogged. His body felt sogged. 
    
    "Don't try to move. We're almost to the hospital." Tom smiled down at
    him, touching the vampire's filthy hair. 
    
    "Bab-y?" 
    
    "Safe. Ray has him." Tom didn't add that the baby wouldn't stop crying
    around him. He felt Calhoun curl into him, clutching his t-shirt with
    almost clawed hands. 
    
    Calhoun felt something moving under the shirt. His eyes widened, then
    closed. "Tom?" 
    
    "Later." Tom shivered, a cramp hitting him. Shifting uncomfortably, he
    stroked Calhoun's hair again. "Thank you, James..." 
    
    "Wha-for?" He pressed his forehead against Tom's stomach, trying to sense
    what it was. Evil. It was evil. Oh God, Tom... 
    
    "For Adam. For Cassie. For you. I love you." 
    
    "Love you...Tom?" 
    
    "Hmm?" 
    
    "Talk to a doctor...kay?" 
    
    "Sure." 
    
    *** 
    
    He dragged an almost unwilling Vecchio to the demon obstetrics with him.
    Vecchio was curious about that tail he'd seen. Had Grissom actually eaten
    something with a tail? 
    
    The doctor felt the glands at Tom's neck, took his temperature, his blood
    pressure, ran the gauntlet. "When did implantation occur?" he asked,
    almost coldly. 
    
    "Last night," Tom whispered. The doctor paused, shaking his head. "Yes."
    
    "Can't be. You're at least five months..." 
    
    "I just had one last week. My metabolism's primed for it..." 
    
    "That may be, but this is an unprecedented rate of growth. Oh dear..."
    The doctor ran the ultrasound. Frowned, as did Vecchio. 
    
    "What?" 
    
    "I've never seen this type of demon before..."  He turned back to Tom.
    "What did this?" 
    
    The psychic closed his eyes, shaking his head in quiet despair.  He didn't
    want to admit the truth even to himself. 
    
    "Sir? Sir, you have to tell me." The doctor's voice was quiet. 
    
    "Wyrm. The Wyrm." 
    
    *** 
    
    Outside of administering massive amounts of potable blood, there was
    almost nothing the hospital could do for Calhoun.  They emptied his lungs
    of the remaining water, x-rayed him and found thirty-one broken bones,
    including his skull, and ordered him to stay in bed until his body could
    heal itself. 
    
    Kowalski sat with him, waiting for Tom and tending to Caine.  The baby
    was asleep, having stayed awake to keep Calhoun moving for the past twelve
    hours.  Clearly Ray was enjoying the responsibility of caring for a baby.
    It was not every man that got to help raise his own father figure. 
    
    "I'm sorry you got so hurt," Ray said softly, rocking the baby. 
    
    "Don't be," he replied bluntly. 
    
    "I ordered you." 
    
    "That's what kept me going.  Besides, I haven't exactly endeared myself
    to you and yours in the past." He didn't mention the crucifixion at the
    zoo. He didn't have to. 
    
    Ray shifted, ready to curl up around the warm little form in his arms
    and go to sleep.  "Warfield thinks you walk on water." 
    
    Calhoun grunted.  "Right. Don't mention water.  I hate water."  He sighed.
    "Lilith escaped." 
    
    Ray shook his head.  "Doesn't matter, Calhoun.  I was ready to let her
    go, anyway.  You saved Aja.  Nothing else matters." 
    
    On the verge of sleep himself, his head aching, Calhoun gazed at Ray
    and with a devilish grin asked, "What happened to Cecil?" 
    
    Ray snorted.  "Tom nailed him with a mirror smasher." 
    
    "And...?" 
    
    "He's pregnant with twins." 
    
    "I'll laugh later.  Tom?" 
    
    "He got nailed too. Guess we'll find out what with, right?" He looked
    up as Vecchio appeared at the door. "Well?" 
    
    "They're running some more tests. Fraser and the Cassie are with him."
    He gestured with his head for Ray to follow him. 
    
    Calhoun sighed. "Just say it, Vecchio." 
    
    "It's the Wyrm." 
    
    "The Wyrm." 
    
    "He's carrying Wyrm." 
    
    


End file.
